Crossroads
by DJ Dork
Summary: L4D2. While fighting to survive Rochelle finds herself walking down a crossroad fraught with indecision and zombies, but with a chance to find happiness she finds herself torn. Ellis x Rochelle x Nick
1. What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

**Crossroads  
**By DJ Dork

**-Prologue-  
**What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

Rochelle stumbled down the corridor, cursing under her breath, trying not to spill the mug of coffee she balanced in her right hand. She paused and leaned against the wall for support collecting the stack of disarray papers tucked under her arm. The thick sheets slid under her loose grasp, struggling to collapse from the unbalanced weight, but Rochelle maintained her hold and pursued further down the hall.

She passed the ongoing doors and windows piling down both sides of the hallway. The mixed chatter of fellow co-workers, either talking on the phone or in person, reached her ears from all directions. Among the clamor, busy fingers pounding on the keyboards, and the continuous fits of coughs and sneezes never seemed to dwindle. Each day the news station is occupied with less bodies as more staff began to call out sick.

_Another flu strand is spreading. _Rochelle thought.

While the strange course of event has been hovering in the back of her mind, Rochelle hasn't let the illness ruin her time at work. She still worked just as hard, but reminded herself to keep some of what of a distance from those who have fallen under the weather.

"Hey Ro."

Rochelle smiled, snapping out of her train of thought. "Hey Macy."

Macy, a young slender dirty blonde, treaded down the hall toward Rochelle. She held a notebook in her hands, and her pen, like always, sat behind her ear.

"Are you on a coffee run again?" Macy asked. She stopped in the hall in an attempt to converse, but Rochelle only steadied her pace with a keen sense that she was running late.

"Yes girl it's that time again, but Mrs. Harris has something to ask me."

Macy grinned, and adjusted her thin glasses. "Are we counting on some good news?"

"I hope so."

Macy chortled, and nodded. "Don't worry, it will be. We should plan a night to go out drinking soon, it has been a while."

"We should. I'll call you later, "Rochelle called over her shoulder coming up on Mrs. Harris's slightly ajar door.

"Okay, take care." Macy's voice trailed down the opposite end of the hall.

Rochelle heard her boss's demanding voice emanating from in between the crack. She gently tapped the door with her knuckle, and waited until Mrs. Harris welcomed her in. Rochelle pushed the door open with her foot, and stepped into the square office where Mrs. Harris sat behind her desk talking on the phone.

Mrs. Harris motioned for her to have a seat at the empty chair, and Rochelle obeyed setting the coffee on the table. She exhaled a sigh of relief, content to get rid of the extra weight, and began to organize her clump of papers while silently waiting.

"It has been a struggling week here as well. I've had numerous staff call out of work, and many stories that need to be cover." Mrs. Harris chatted away on the phone while absent-mindedly tapping her pen on her desk.

Despite the stress visible in her weary bright eyes, Mrs. Harris held her composure and revealed little countenance. Her long brunette hair, pulled into a ponytail, sat high on her head, and she dressed more casual than usual in a nice buttoned up shirt, and a pair of dark slacks.

"You do what you have to do then," Mrs. Harris continued.

Rochelle picked at her nails, and looked around the office even though she has been here countless of times. Nothing has ever changed except for the people who visit. Rochelle didn't have to glance in order to know that a large fake plant took up space in the left-hand corner, or that pictures of family and friends hung up one wall while newspaper articles dating back years ago hung diligently on the other. The large window behind Mrs. Harris's desk over looked the busy Cleveland street, and the partially covered sky filled with graying cumulous clouds.

"Yes, thank you. Good-bye." Mrs. Harris hung up the phone, and groaned rubbing her temples.

"Tough day?" Rochelle asked, her eyes trailed back to her boss.

"You have no idea." Mrs. Harris eyed the coffee, and her lips curled as she reached for the black mug. "Two scoops right?"

"The usual."

Mrs. Harris took a sip, and Rochelle watched her abnormally pale face return to its olive tone texture. Once sated, Mrs. Harris licked her lips and set the mug aside. "Now, I called you here on an important matter." She folded her arms on her desk. "This is your chance to get out of your normal routine, and go report a story."

Rochelle's heart raced. Her back straightened, and she leaned forward in the chair. "Really? You're giving me the chance to do a report?"

Mrs. Harris nodded. "You have been doing a great job around here, and plus…a lot of my reporters are out sick."

"What story?"

"There is an evacuation center located in Savannah, Georgia relating to this flu strand spreading across the continent. A lot of strange occurrences are going on there, and it is a perfect opportunity to get a story."

Rochelle's excitement vanished just as quickly as it arrived. "Savannah…Georgia?" She heard the dull lackluster in her voice. A sudden uncomfortable pang twisted in the pit of her stomach, but she couldn't quite grasp if it was from hunger or the thought of heading down south.

Mrs. Harris leaned back in her chair. "I understand that it is a great distance, but this could be your big chance."

_She's right. _Rochelle nodded. _I can't let this opportunity pass._

"I'll do it. I'll go to Georgia, and get you a story."

Mrs. Harris clasped her hands together. "Excellent! I knew I could count you." She smiled and grabbed her coffee. "You will be able to handle it right?"

Rochelle lowered her head to the papers she cradled in her hands. She thought about it for a moment, letting the silence drown the room, but could only devour herself in the positives and how her job would change if she returned with the perfect story.

"I'm sure. What could possibly go wrong?"

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I am returning to fan fiction because of my overly obsessed love for Left 4 Dead 2. I currently do not own the game, so bare with me on things, but I will be able to have my fun of killing zombies with frying pans on Christmas. Most of the information I gathered was from watching gameplay videos on Youtube, reading L4D2 wiki, and other wonderful fan fiction stories.

I will admit I do have an equal love for Ellis X Rochelle and Nick X Rochelle, but over time one of them has been a bigger craze even more. I've noticed a lack of both pairings, so decided to resurface and contribute my batch of stories, and one-shots.

There is plenty more to come. Trust me.

Also, I am a human being. I am not perfect so please don't complain if you see any mistakes. Point them out, and I will be sure to fix them.

-DJ Dork


	2. It's a Pleasure to Meet You

Part I

**-Chapter 1-  
**It's a Pleasure to Meet You

"This cannot be happening…" Rochelle muttered to herself for the eighteenth time that hour.

She shook her head, and lowered her arms to her side never loosening the grip of her pistol. Rochelle stood in front of a broken window, careful of the jagged pieces of glass surrounding her, overlooking the view of the destructive zombie raging city once known as Savannah. Thick smoke billowed from the streets below towering over numerous fires, and the once beautiful city skyline now portrayed a gruesome aftermath one would only find in a horror movie.

Although outside didn't compare to what she faced in The Vannah Hotel. The large bedroom she stood in was stripped of its furniture except for a few toppled chairs. Sleeping bag from left over survivors were spread across the floor. Garbage ranging from soda cans, paper, and food wrappers decorated the room like a dump, but the queasy sight of splattered blood, marking every surface of the room, created a living slaughter house. Of course, it wouldn't be perfect without the lifeless zombie corpse limped against one of the chairs.

Rochelle hasn't even seen herself in the past three days, and wasn't in a hurry to do so. She knew the mirror would not only reflect her somewhat battered physical appearance, but reemerge the despair and fear conjoined underneath her skin. She didn't want to see the emotions reflecting off her eyes and facial expressions, but nevertheless they were feelings she couldn't shake.

Rochelle narrowed her eyes to her free hand. Her fingers trembled, and she rolled them into a fist. Her muscles laced with pain all over her body, and if she could have the moment she would collapse and sleep-but even that was scarce.

_You will be able to handle it, right?_

_I'm sure. What could possibly go wrong?_

"I completely jinxed myself. What a damn fool I was." Rochelle heaved a sigh.

The conversation with her boss a week ago replayed over again in her mind, non-stop. She was sent to Savannah to cover a story, which was a chance she had been waiting for for years, but in a matter of two days her entire life shattered and crumbled into an alternative version of Hell.

Her only chance to escape was at the mall where an evacuation center waited.

A sickening rasping noise from behind triggered Rochelle's sudden instinct to twirl around. As she did so, her unexpected intruder screamed and a long slimy tongue constricted her waist. She aimed her pistol and fired a quick shot before her body thrust forward, but the bullet failed to contact the tall disfigured zombie. Rochelle let out a shriek as her body was dragged closer, and her arms became ensnared.

"Hold on miss!"

Rochelle closed her eyes struggling against the secure tongue. "Help me please! Get this thing off me."

Gunfire rattled in her ear, and the zombie exploded leaving a puff of smoke in its wake. The tongue suppressed its hold, and Rochelle collapsed on her back catching a quick breath before returning to her feet. She and her savior coughed, and moved toward the opened window out of the range of the green thinning fume.

"You okay, miss?"

Rochelle let her heartbeat return to normal as she faced the young man next to her. He was the cap wearing survivor, who spoke with southern accent, and never hid his excitement even when fighting off the massive wave of zombies. He had a childish grin, and held a magnum protectively in his hand with a baseball bat strapped to his back. Rochelle met his gaze. Behind his dirty and scraped face his blue eyes sparkled-much like a child on Christmas day.

Rochelle nodded, and grimaced removing the leftover tongue from around her waist. "I'm fine. Thank you."

He handed her the pistol she dropped. "It's no problem at all. You gotta to be a little more careful when searchin' alone."

"I'll remember that." She accepted the pistol, and turned her head to the doorway where the smoke diminished, and two more bodies entered the room with guns cocked.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to make the trip to the mall alone. Despite being the only female, she was quite pleased to be traveling with three other men. Fate brought them together to fight against the zombie infection.

_Maybe I'm not completely jinxed after all. _Rochelle bobbed her head still watching the young man in front of her. He turned to their two companions, and waved.

"Hey y'all."

"Did you find any supplies?" the bald darker man asked stepping deeper into the room.

Rochelle didn't know any of their ages-she knew nothing about them-but from the looks he topped to be the oldest. His plump build fit snug under the school shirt he wore-donning the colors of purple and yellow. While he appeared threatening and dangerous with his assault riffle and pipe bomb, Rochelle could see his gentle heart beating underneath his healthy appetite.

"I didn't fine none."

"Me either," Rochelle said.

Her eyes lingered to the remaining survivor. He stood in the doorframe as if protecting them from any zombies stalking the hall. The first thing noticeable was his expensive white suit, and his blue unbuttoned shirt underneath. He kept his magnum raised as he continuously looked back and fourth down the hall. Rochelle couldn't conclude much about him besides the fact that his past life, prior to the infection, most likely linked him to trouble.

"Shit," he cursed pointing his gun into the hall and firing numerous shots. A dismembered limb bounced passed the door, but he paid the arm no mind as he dodged the rich spray of blood. He entered the room and his gaze fell on Rochelle, but he spoke to all of them-annoyed and in a hurry. "We need to keep moving."

He headed back into the hall, and disappeared around the corner taking the lead. The guys fell in place after him, and Rochelle brought up the rear keeping an eye out for anything moving over her shoulder. She kept her footing consistent down the corridors staying with the group as they searched rooms and fired when necessary. Everything began to look to the same, and she feared that they were heading in circles, but a momentary relief waft over her when they descended down a flight of stairs.

_The closer to the ground. The closer to escape. _

Rochelle kept her gun raised when she opened a door the men in front of her failed to check. She waved her flashlight around the empty room spotting a lone zombie slumped in the corner. She didn't take the chances, and pulled the trigger.

"I never thought I'd be doing this shit…" she muttered.

Further down the hall, she was able to view more of Savannah out the windows. The destruction of the city worsened each time they moved closer to the lobby on the first floor. She gaped at the scene, listened to the echoing gunfire in the hall, and mouthed her nineteenth repetitive cry of the day.

"I got a Roly-Poly!"

Rochelle turned on her heel, and sprinted to the second room on her left. As she drew closer she heard belching and gurgling which sent an uncontrollable shiver down her back. She didn't halter, and stepped into the room raising her pistol toward the corpulent boiled covered zombie cornering the darker man. He and Rochelle both fired a few shots, and the zombie groaned before exploding into a pool of vomit.

"Look out."

Rochelle felt a tight hand grab her arm from behind, and pull her away from the vomit's impact. She toppled to the side, but maintained balance. Rochelle cast the survivor, wearing a suit, a thankful glance, and hurried to the older man in the corner. He bent over spitting and wiped the bile from his shoulders and arms. Rochelle wrinkled her nose at the putrid smell, and held her breath helping him to his feet.

"Jesus," he shook his head. "I got vomited on."

In their brief silence, all hell appeared to break loose. Zombies sounded from all over slicing through the calm air. They charged like a stampede, and just by their endless growls and cries, Rochelle knew a mad army of them neared.

"It's a horde!" the older man confirmed.

"Into the elevator. This elevator works!" the southern voice screamed over the incoming attack.

Once he made it to the elevator in the room, the zombies piled through the opened doors like ravenous wave.

"Come on gentlemen, let's go." Rochelle hurried toward their escape, firing at the window where zombies surprisingly broke in.

She ignored the blood and limps flying passed her and struggled to stay composed. Rochelle swiftly killed a hoodie, and leaped into the elevator next to the youngest survivor. They protected the other two men who had a difficult time reaching the safe compartment. A pipe bomb was thrown and a direct path cleared. Within a matter of seconds, they were all on board.

No one lowered their weapons until the elevator doors closed, and the bomb exploded. Rochelle leaned against the metal bar, chest heaving, and wiped her forehead. She switched her glances between other men catching their breaths. They all shared the same expression, content to find a little moment of peace.

_Just this once. _Rochelle pleaded looking at the numbers decline. _Take your time going down._

"None of you guys are bitten right?" the man with the suit asked between breaths. "Isn't that how it works?"

"No, I don't think so," the older man replied. "Anyway, my friends call me Coach. I guess y'all can do the same."

"The name's Rochelle, and you?"

"Ellis," the young man with the hat introduced. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Rochelle."

"I'm Nick, but don't get use to it. I'm not sticking around for long."

Rochelle quirked an eyebrow, casting Nick a glance, but when he looked in her direction she averted her gaze. In the immediate silence that followed introductions a strange tension flowed in the elevator. Rochelle sensed Nick still watching her, and she reloaded her weapon with a simple excuse not to look back at him.

"Technically, we're not supposed to ride elevator during a fire…" Nick said, finally pulling his sights away from Rochelle and to Coach and Ellis.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Ellis replied switching his magnum with his baseball bat.

As they descended pass the second floor thick smoke seeped through the closed doors, and consumed the elevator from top to bottom. Rochelle stepped away from the doors squinting her eyes against the irritating fumes. She coughed, feeling the heat rise on the other side, and with a quivering thought believed they were actually entering Hell.

"Holy shit, guys. Nick cursed us." Ellis swung his hand in front of his face and prepared himself with the bat like he was getting ready to hit a homerun.

The elevator stopped on the bottom floor, and beeped before losing power. A blanket of darkness settled in the small compartment until Coach and Nick turned on their flashlights. Rochelle stayed in the corner anticipating what lied beyond the closed doors.

"We need to pry them open or we're just sitting ducks," Rochelle explained. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and her heart battered her ribcage.

"Let me handle it." Coach stepped forward, and used his axe to open their only escape.

Nick coughed from the smoke and pointed his weapon. "Okay, we're all friends now. Get ready."

The doors squeaked loudly triggering another wrath of zombies. To make matters worse, more smoke plummeted into the elevator and the entire floor was drowned in a haze of fumes. A large fire just outside the hall prevented an immediate reaction, but Coach and Ellis both slid into the hall firing and swinging the moment they stepped out.

Rochelle stayed back unsure as to where to go. She caught a few zombies in her sight running with speed and flaring arms. She fired from within the elevator killing a good number of the undead between her and Nick. Once he departed into the hall, Rochelle trailed behind.

"Stay close together!" Coach's faint voice drowned within the gunfire and zombies gibberish cries, but still reached Rochelle's ears. She couldn't see him anywhere in the ignited hall, but followed Nick's white coat praying not to lag behind.

The fires proved to be a great obstacle. The immense orange and yellow hues were the only lights Rochelle could make out within the impasse of smoke. The flames burned against her skin as she drew near, and created another dangerous threat as the zombies ran through the fire-hunger overpowering stupidity.

She ran down the hall pushing zombies out of her way, and firing when she had the chance. Their nails clawed at her skin, and she bit her lip ignored the pulsing twinge on her arms and back. Bullets soared out of her pistol, and when she found a magnum by her feet she tossed the small weapon aside and switched.

"Guys?" Her voice left her throat in a quiver, and she panicked when Nick's suit was no longer in view. She merely followed the sound of gunfire and the bodies of decapitated zombies laying out like a yellow brick road leading the way.

She looked over her shoulder, and her heart dropped at the deformed zombie with an elongated neck, and bloated stomach coming into view through the haze. Rochelle listened to the zombie hacking-out of all of the zombie sounds she's heard this one makes her want to heave.

"Dammit, it's the crazy lady!"

Rochelle jumped and leaped through the door leading into the kitchen. The green acid bubbled by her feet, and she slid back across the dirty floor returning to a stance in seconds. She took a deep breath and used her strength to jump over a fallen counter, but with the suffocating smoke, and her lungs dying to breathe Rochelle found no energy to get up.

"I got you, Ro, let's go." Nick ran to Rochelle's aid.

The zombie hacked again, and the acid reformed behind them. Rochelle jumped into a sprint, and passed the dead humper on the ground by the stove. She saw Ellis and Coach up ahead once the smoke died and they made it to the open lobby-the only room in the entire hotel still in good condition.

"Look's like there is a safe room up ahead!" Coach said from the lead.

Hearing a safe room made Rochelle run faster, and she shot any zombies that came her way. Her legs laced with pain, and her chest was ready to burst, but she didn't stop. Coach made it to the safe room first, and Ellis paused to grab some pills left on a coffee table.

Rochelle piled into the room next, and paced around the area walking up to the front desk. She leaned on the counter using it as support and examined her small wounds. Ellis's youthful laughter put a smile on her face as he joined them inside and Nick staggered in last, panting.

"Woo, we made it!" Ellis cheered.

Coach closed the door and leaned forward resting his hands on his knees fighting to find his voice through his heavy breathing. "Praise the lord."

_Amen to that. _Rochelle thought.

With the safe room secure, Rochelle's legs buckled and she rested on the floor truly able to breathe.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

If it wasn't for the blizzard that completely smashed my town this passed weekend then I probably wouldn't have updated so soon. So yay and nay to that.

I know that this chapter was pretty much a walkthrough of the first chapter in the game and I want to be clear that the entire story is not like that. The overall plot about the four of them going from the different levels is relatively the same, but we're here for the love triangle and that's what I am going to give.

Also, I going to make this more realistic than the game. Here they aren't going to encounter as much zombies. So in the future, when you read about them standing in one spot for a long time and not having to constantly shoot something…that is why.

I hope to have the next chapter up soon because I am really getting into this now, plus I am getting closer to being able to play the game.

I'm sorry in advance for any mistakes. Thank you for the reviews I have received so far. You all encourage me to continue.

-DJ Dork


	3. Just the Beginning

**-Chapter 2-  
**Just the Beginning

Rochelle peeked outside looking through the bars on the metal door. The landscape unfolding before her didn't differ much from what she spotted three floors above. Aside from the nature of plants and trees, two large CEDA trucks parked outside in front of the building. Fences and barricades were placed in the vicinity, but the obstacles didn't prevent the threat from approaching. A cluster of outhouses aligned the background, but anything beyond that was swallowed in the drifting fog.

Movement outside ceased to exist. The air grew calm and warm. The scene, frozen in place, was like a captured picture of an unforeseen consequence. The outline of a human being slowly came into view, emerging from within the fog, but its irregular gait, stained clothes, and graying skin labeled it as a lone wandering zombie.

Rochelle stepped to the side removing herself from view, but continued to peek. Footsteps approached her from behind, and Nick stood with her by the door keeping his emerald eyes locked with the zombie shuffling across the pavement. Rochelle watched him cock his gun aiming carefully between the bars, as if preparing to shoot. Her heart jumped, and she shook her head drawing his attention as he cast her a sideways glance.

"You might attract more of them if you shoot," Rochelle explained. Nick trailed back to the zombie moving away from them. "For now, they don't know we are here. We should keep quiet until we leave."

Nick shrugged lowering his arms with a slight grin. "As you wish."

Rochelle nodded flashing him a smile, before turning to reclaim her spot by the counter. She slid to the floor, crossing her legs in front of her, and rested her gun across her lap keeping it close just in case.

"Are them zombies still out there, Nick?" Ellis asked from his location on the black foot recliner next to the fake plant. He continued to reload his weapon after stocking on the supplies left behind from other survivors.

Nick huffed, and took a seat on the wooden table next to the door. "It's not like zombies take a vacation, Ellis." He leaned against the wall with one foot supporting his weight on the floor while the other dangled over the table's edge.

Rochelle turned to Coach who chuckled from across the room. He stood by the vending machine hunching over the broken glass, and digging through the few leftover snacks. Rochelle listened to the bags of chips, and granola wrappers crushing in his hands as Coach scooped them out of the machine hugging them against his wide chest.

"We're gonna to be dealin' with them for a while," Coach said, never once looking away from his current task. "Don't expect them to clear anytime soon."

Rochelle lowered her head sucking in the information Coach relayed to them. _Don't expect them to clear anytime soon._ The words skipped across her mind, and Rochelle sighed. How long are they going to have to endure these zombies? How long are they going to have to fight to survive? Rochelle could only imagine the length of her story, if she ever gets the chance to write one. The article would devour page after page.

_Hell, the entire paper. _

To help lighten her mood, she pictured Mrs. Harris reading the titles under each section all relating to their current nightmare called reality. Sports: Zombie takes Soccer Ball to the Face. Region: Infection Spreads like Cockroaches. Weather: Sunny With a Chance of Hell. Entertainment: Thriller…All Over Again.

"How far are we from the mall?" Nick asked, breaking Rochelle's concentration and the stretching silence.

"Not too far from here," Coach said, stepping away from the machine and balancing a bunch of goodies in his arms.

Ellis grinned resting his arms on his knees. "Ooh, and there is this gun store on the way too. We should stop in there and pay a visit."

Nick nodded patting his weapon. "Sounds like my kind of place."

"Okay y'all. It's not a buffet, but it's all we got for now. Eat up before we get movin'." Coach walked around the safe room, and passed out snacks from the vending machine he raided.

He collected enough for each of them to have two, and let them choose what they desired from the limited selection. Ellis nagged himself a bag of chips and a package of Peanut M&M's. Rochelle thankfully accepted two granola bars, and watched Nick do the same, mixing between the bar and chips.

Coach returned to the opposite wall with a granola bar, and a Twix remaining in his hand. He leaned against the machine, and took a breather sitting down on the floor. The axe strapped to his back clanked as it met the concrete beneath him. Coach released an exhale, glad to be off his feet, before tearing into the food.

Rochelle chewed on her nutritious snack looking about the room at her new companions. The unusual silence had her body tensing, and she found the need to start up some conversation as they ate. She always found it proper to know a little about the people she worked with, and in this case, those she teamed up with to survive. She knew she could trust them-they helped each other this far-and she couldn't help but fall under the pressure of the underlying information connecting to each of their lives…begging to be told.

"I can't really stand this silence," Rochelle said. Her voice cut through the quiet air. "How about we…contribute something about ourselves? After all, we are working together to get to the evacuation center."

"Sweetheart, I don't think now is the time to relay our personal biographies."

Rochelle's heart doubled at the thought of Nick calling her 'sweetheart' but she abruptly shrugged the thought away. "It doesn't have to be long. It could just be a sentence."

Coach smiled not bothered by the idea. "A sentence won't hurt." He took another bite of his chocolate covered granola bar before starting. "I used to be a football coach at the local high school."

"You sure could have fooled us," Nick joked propping himself fully on the table.

Coach frowned pursing his lips, and ignored Nick's remark. His exhausted eyes turned to Rochelle and he nodded in her direction. "Okay, Ro. How about you?"

"I report stories for a newspaper."

"What kind of stories?" Ellis asked.

"Well, I was sent to cover the strange occurrences happening here," Rochelle explained.

_And what strange occurrences they are._

Ellis chuckled tossing a M&M into his mouth. "You must have one helluva story then."

"So far," Rochelle replied fiddling with her empty wrapper.

Coach rubbed his head turning to Nick by the door. "You're up, Nick."

Nick frowned waving them off. "I don't have anything to say."

Rochelle raised her eyebrows, and listened to Coach and Ellis complain at Nick's refusal. She was slightly upset he didn't want to participate in their quick sentence brief, but it left her more intrigued. As a reporter it was her job to discover a story, and for some strange factor-one she couldn't explain-she wanted to uncover his.

"Not one sentence?" Ellis shook his head in disbelief. "Aw, c'mon. Did you live in a hole your entire life?"

"Fine," Nick spat crumbling his garbage and tossing it to the right. "I'm a gambler. Happy?"

The room settled in a quick silence as Coach and Ellis exchanged glances.

"You could have fooled us," Rochelle smirked, backfiring his previous joke.

Nick, taken back by her comment, returned her gaze like he wanted to smile, but fought against it and shook his head.

"I guess it's my turn now." Ellis, now more eager, devoured the rest of his candy. "I was born and raised down here in Savannah. I run an auto shop with my-"

"-Whoa son," Coach interrupted raising his hands the air. "That's more than one sentence."

"I know," Ellis said, tugging on the brim of his hat. "I don't mind explainin' myself."

"Well, continue then," Rochelle urged, content that someone actually wanted to talk.

"As I was sayin', I run an auto shop with my buddies. I'm a mechanic, you know. I work on all kinds of shit…like trucks, compact cars and race cars and-"

"-I think we get the idea, son," Coach interrupted. He looked over at Nick who was shaking his head.

Rochelle's lips curled into a smile as Ellis continued.

"Oh, and I love beer. There ain't nothin' like the feelin' of beer fillin' up your system. I'm in a band too with by buddy Keith and Dave. I play bass. Oh man, did I ever tell you about a time my buddy Keith tried campin' out on top of a buildin' once. He was shootin' crows, but the police were too busy tear gassin' him to ask what he was doin' up there. He screamed for an entire year every single time when he opened his eyes! Oh man! At first it was funny, then it just got sad, but then it got funny again! Oh man!"

Rochelle covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her laughter at Ellis's rambling story, but to no avail. She couldn't help but be amused at his innocence radiating off his smile, and excited bright eyes. Already, she could tell she he was talkative with a bundle of more stories following the one just gave.

At least the trip to the mall won't be so austere and quiet.

She caught Coach's expression who quirked a heavy eyebrow lowering his jaw. His face twisted in both confusion and amusement, but he remained quiet letting Ellis's laughter drown the room. Nick on the other hand, rose from the table and refocused his sights just beyond the safe house door. He positioned himself as their guard watching as more zombies began to cluster the around area outside. He cocked his gun, but minded Rochelle's words from earlier, and waited-merely watching.

"Where were you when the infection seriously broke out?" Rochelle asked gathering her belongings knowing their short rest had just ended.

_Soon, we must return back to the dangerous streets. Clearly, this is just the beginning. _

"I was down at the diner gettin' a quick bite to eat when all of a sudden people started bitin' other people. I ain't seen no shit like that before in my life. They was bitin' down to the blood, and started talkin' in some other language. No one knew what the hell they was sayin'. People started runnin' around, and shit actin' all crazy. That's when the guns came out. Bullets sprayin', woo! It was like somethin out of an action movie."

Coach nodded tugging on his glove. "Yeah, this used to be a nice neighborhood until we're left fightin' to save our asses."

"Speaking of saving our asses…" Nick echoed over his shoulder. "I think now is the perfect time to get moving before this lovely welcoming committee outside gets bigger." As if his cue, he began firing shots, and a pool of zombies abruptly bombarded the door flaring their arms through the metal bars.

Their clamor of bellows was enough to get Coach back on his feet. "Let's go y'all," he said grabbing his rifle and joining Nick.

Rochelle started to rise, but Ellis moved to her side and offered his hand. He helped her to her feet, and they both exchanged a smile.

_This won't be too bad. _Rochelle thought. _They're all right. _

Nick removed the lock, and kicked the door open with no disregard for the three zombies knocked in the face, and thrown back from the door's swing. Ellis cheered raising his gun in the air. He followed Nick and Coach who piled out of the room spraying bullets like a pack of machine guns.

Rochelle stepped out after. _Hell, traveling with them might be interesting. _

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

I just had to get this updated. Also, after playing the game pretty much everyday I have fallen more in love with Ellis.

Does anyone know what CEDA stands for? I don't remember if they ever mentioned it in the game. I'm just curious.

As always, my apologizes for any mistakes.

-DJ Dork


	4. Damn Cola

**-Chapter 3-  
**Damn Cola

"I'm going to search upstairs," Rochelle said calling over her shoulder.

She stood in the foyer waiting at the bottom of the mahogany staircase. Her voice echoed, bouncing off the dirty tan colored walls, and extended to each section of the two-story building. Rochelle lifted onto the first step and stalled wrapping her fingers around the railing. Coach's voice emanated from the kitchen giving her an okay response, and Rochelle ascended up the steps being the first to explore the unchecked territory.

The trip to the mall proved to be a tougher challenge then she had originally thought. Traveling down the obstacle course styled streets, dodging abandoned cars, bypassing gates, and fighting the occasional horde of zombies, has them consuming majority of their supplies. They were currently running low on ammo, and had only one med-pack between the four of them.

In order for them to survive, pit stops to homes and stores are an essential key in their progress.

_Which leaves us at our fourth stop today. _

The wooden stairs creaked under her weight, and Rochelle braced herself with her AK-47 aimed in front of her. She moved with a careful gait as if she was an infantrywoman ordered first to empty out an armed building. With limited windows on the second floor, Rochelle flashed her light where the sun failed to reach.

At the top of the stairs, Rochelle rounded the corner and peeked down the narrow hallway leading to three closed doors. Despite the noise generating from the first floor, the area was quiet-too quiet for her. She ventured further down the corridor stepping over shards of a broken China Vase knocked off its stand.

The walls were decorated with numerous photos of various scenes such as the nighttime skyline of New York City, a shimmering ocean, and a endless field of green. Neither of the photos she spotted were of the people who lived in the house. For a moment, Rochelle enjoyed the different relaxing sceneries wishing to be anywhere but her current location.

The first room Rochelle checked was locked, sealed by something heavy against the door on the other side. She moved across the hall to the small bathroom, and balked at the sight of her reflection. Rochelle lowered her jaw and eased her way to the mirror scrutinizing the small cuts on her right cheek and chin. A scrape lined her forehead from a Jockey attack earlier, but parts of her hair, breaking loose from her ponytail, concealed it.

Rochelle met with her lethargic brown eyes, and furrowed her brow at her reflection. She averted her gaze hating to see the gloom expression on her face bounce back at her. She eyed a bottle of pills on the edge of the tub and snatched them before searching the final room.

The atmosphere in the bedroom relapsed her mind back to her own, and a sudden wave of homesickness crashed down upon her. Rochelle paused in the doorway moving her eyes to each object occupying space in the room.

_Damn, reminds me of home. _

The queen size bed had the same comforter as hers. Two nightstands were placed at each side of the bed, and a large matching dresser sat in front of the wall near her. An ajar door leading to the closet was located to her right, and a ceiling fan centered the room-currently off.

With the room vacant, Rochelle lowered her gun and treaded to the corner where two windows sat side by side on separate walls. One viewed the garage and the other viewed the streets. She eyed two zombies swaying by a tree in front of the neighbors house across the street-not posing any immediate threat. Rochelle tore her sights away to a torn photo on the nightstand near her. She reached for the picture, and frowned. Her heart pattered, sinking lower in her chest, as the feeling of grief billowed up her veins.

The photo, taken at a restaurant, centered around a young couple. A dark haired man, well dressed and groomed, was down on one knee proposing to his girlfriend, who wore a strapless black dress. Her thick raven hair spilled across her back in a parade of curls, and a beauty-mark dotted her cheek. Tears welled in the woman's eyes, and a smile-full of love and elation-stretched across the man's face.

Rochelle bit her lip hating to imagine that they had fallen under the infection. The couple were ready to face a difficult, but loving life of marriage. She shuddered away the thought of their engagement not reaching their anticipated day of swapping "I do's."

Upbeat footsteps announced the arrival of another figure lingering in the hallway heading in her direction. Rochelle straightened, her muscles tensed, and she watched the door. Her fingers tightened around the gun, and she inhaled a deep breath holding it in.

"Hey Ro." Ellis emerged from the hall and stepped into the room with a defibrillator hooked to his belt, and a pistol in his hand. "Did you find anythin?"

Rochelle loosened her grip, releasing the air in her lungs, and returned to the photo. "…I did."

"Cool, what is it?" She listened to Ellis's quick pace shuffle across the carpet. His presence loomed behind her, and he looked over her shoulder at the object in her hands. "Aw hell, that ain't gonna help us."

"These people probably lived in this house," Rochelle said fighting to hide the quiver in her voice.

Ellis squinted and leaned closer to the photo. "Is he proposin' to his lady?"

Rochelle nodded. She turned the photo over, and her eyes widened at the date written on back. "Ellis look! The date of this photo was only two weeks ago."

She lifted her eyes to him, and he stared at the numbers a while longer before meeting her gaze. "It sure was."

"What if they never get the chance to celebrate their marriage?"

Ellis grinned. "Maybe they made it to safety. Maybe…just maybe because of this infection they got married sooner." He rubbed his chin, and laughed. "Could you imagine the kind of story they could tell people about gettin' married in a zombie apocalypse?"

A smile tugged at end of her lips, and her eyes found their way to the photo again. "That would certainly top any other wedding stories out there."

"Hell yeah." Ellis stepped to the side, and looked out the windows.

Rochelle, hesitating at first, sat down on the bed giving her feet a breather from their travels. The couple in the photo don't look similar to any of the zombies they killed so far, but then again she hasn't stopped to study any of their features. Whenever she encounters a zombie she shoots-a first instinct which soon developed into an involuntary reaction.

But Ellis could be right. His optimistic faith has her believing that the young couple-no older than 23-made it out alive. Like the four of them, some people adapted an immunity to the infection, but while they aren't limping around like the flesh eating undead they're sucked into a raging nightmare fighting to escape.

"You know this reminds me of a time when Keith wanted to try and set a world record." Rochelle raised her head to Ellis as his cheerful voice broke through the silence. He took a step closer to her, away from the windows. "He did a whole bunch of crazy ass stunts, and never set one record. I told him though he probably almost set a record for trying to set a record, if you know what I mean. He had many stories to tell after that. Like first he tried to get a record at dancin' the longest, but only made it twelve hours. His feet were bleedin' and covered in blisters. The second time he tried to break a bunch of coconuts with one hand, but ended up breakin' two of his fingers. That one was kinda funny, but then again a little stupid of him. Then the next time he-"

"-How many different records did he try to break?" Rochelle kindly interrupted afraid at the length of the story. She knew Ellis would elaborate on each attempt, but she couldn't resist smiling. He had a way of bringing in the light even in the bleakest of times.

"Um…about fifteen."

Rochelle shook her head. "Your friend Keith is really something."

"Just wait until you meet him."

Rochelle tore her gaze away from his infectious smile, and another unspoken air consumed the room. Her thoughts drifted as she rubbed her thumb across the photo. "Ellis, did you ever think that all of these zombies we're killing were people like us with a future ahead of them?"

"I hate to break it to ya Ro, but they're not us anymore." Ellis shrugged. "It's kinda hard to think 'bout that when all they want to do is kill us." He paused pointing at himself with his thumb. "We just need to worry about killing all them sons'a'bitches, and getting ourselves to New Orleans."

Rochelle laughed and placed the photo back on the nightstand finally pushing the couple out of her mind. "Agreed. Are you going to be our little zombie slayer on our way there?" she joked.

Ellis's eyes sparked at her comment and he replied like a child tying to impress his friends. "Nothing can touch me."

Rochelle smirked and her eyes lowered to the window behind him. A body hunched on all fours crawled on top of the garage with its white irises, visible below the its hood, locked on them. All too soon her smile vanished. An undulation of fear weaved throughout her body creating a deep chill, and she jumped to her feet with her gun cocked.

"Ellis!"

Ellis had little time to react. The Hunter growled and leaped through the window shattering the glass. Rochelle flinched and moved to the side closing her eyes. A few shards clipped her skin, but nothing compared to the blow of Ellis's body colliding against hers. Rochelle was pushed against the nightstand, and a pang from the table exploded in her back. She ignored the throbbing sensation, and recovered to assist Ellis pinned by the Hunter on the bed.

Rochelle smacked the zombie with the butt of her gun before he could do any significant damage. The Hunter stumbled to his feet toward the door and she fired, blood squirting the walls. The hooded undead released a final cry as he toppled to the floor motionless.

In the aftermath of the attack, Rochelle caught her breath, staying in position, making sure the Hunter was dead. Ellis sat up scooting to the edge of the bed adjusting his hat that nearly fell off in the unexpected pounce.

"Nice comeback."

"Are you okay?" Rochelle placed her hand on his shoulder.

Ellis examined his chest tugging at his shirt still in one piece. "Yeah. Thanks Ro. I owe ya."

Rochelle smiled, but before she could say anything else Coach's voice raced down the hallway.

"What happened in here? Are you two okay?" In a heartbeat he stood in the doorway switching his glances between the dead Hunter and them.

"We're fine," Rochelle said, removing her hand to let Ellis return to his feet. "Just a little run in with a…Hunter."

Coach stepped over the zombie. "Good. I heard shootin' and got worried."

"Looks like you guys had company," Nick added filing in the room after Coach.

Rochelle sighed. "It's my fault we got surprised. I had gotten us a little side-tracked."

"Did you guys find any supplies?" Coach asked looking about the room not the least bit upset at her for not paying attention.

"I just found pills." Rochelle showed him the bottle.

Ellis frowned. "Nothin'."

"Then let's hurry to the gun store. We need some ammo," Nick explained revealing a frying pan. He swung the kitchen utensil in front of him. "I think I can knocked out some zombies with this until then."

"Ooh, we can make some grits," Ellis exclaimed.

Nick froze in mid swing raising an eyebrow at Ellis with a look of confusion. "Sure, Ellis. Some zombie grits," he corrected.

Ellis wrinkled his nose. "Now that's just messed up."

Coach rubbed his temples and sighed. He slid by Nick to the hallway. "Let's go y'all."

Ellis and Nick followed Coach into the hall still bickering about the zombie grits. Rochelle took one step forward and stopped. She fiddled with her gun, and looked over her shoulder at the picture on the nightstand…right where she found it.

_I'm going to pray for you two. I hope you are safe and out of this mess._

She forced herself a smile thinking of Ellis's positive attitude, and followed the boys out of the house.

* * *

"You know what's going to happen right?" Coach asked muttering. He scratched his chin watching Nick inch closer to the Save 4 Less building.

Rochelle stood away from them leaning against a blue car in the parking lot. Her eyes looked out at the deserted road stretching before them. Even after making it to the gun store another problem hinders their travels-the blocked road to the mall. In order for them to continue they must retriever cola for Whitaker, the store owner.

Rochelle chuckled once to herself thinking of the mess their in. _Risking our lives for cola._ _I never saw this coming._

"We have no choice." Nick opened the glass doors, and an alarm rang.

"Shit, here they come." Ellis jumped to his feet from the sidewalk in one quick motion.

Rochelle's eyes grew, and her heart raced. The angry bawl, one she has grown to fear, echoed in her ears, and zombies charged from the distant fog as if they materialized within the clouds. Bullets launched at the front lines, and the zombies-an easy target-dropped to the streets.

"Get the cola!" Coach ordered shouting to Nick.

Nick ran into the building, but with the numbers overpowering all of them balked into the convenient store taking cover. Rochelle hurried and crouched behind an overturned cart. She chose carefully to pick out the zombies that climbed through the broken windows.

The first wave assailed as one giant assemble, but with the doors being the only entrance dispersing them was no challenge. It took only two minutes until the numbers dwindled, and the front store littered with lifeless clumps of bodies.

Rochelle leaned against the cart aware of the pool of blood from the dead spilling toward her. She reloaded her Magnum, and stood feeling a presence behind her. She turned to Nick. "Did you get the cola?"

Nick picked up the package with one hand. The bottles jingled together, and the dark soft drink splashed in the containers. "Still in one piece."

"Hurry guys! Let's go before the next horde comes!" Ellis's voice snapped them to attention.

Rochelle now realized the alarm still ringing in the background. The gunfire and zombie's howls from earlier had drowned the continuous bell. They hurried back to the streets running as if they were the lead in a marathon. Just as they passed the gun store, returning to the stairs, the next ravenous wave closed in from all sides.

A pipe bomb to the right and a Boomer Bile in the opposite direction split the massive assault in half, but that didn't stop the Jockey from pouncing and grabbing a hold of Nick. The laughing manic lurked Nick back in the direction from which they came. The cola soared, escaping his grip, and landing by the rear tire of a van.

Rochelle took aim and fired at the Jockey-careful not to hit Nick. She ran against the force of the zombies knocking away those dangerously close. Nick's string of curses filtered in the air, and Rochelle tried to help her struggling companion, but the difficulty settled in. With Nick jumping from side to side, falling under complete control of the Jockey, a perfect shot deemed to be impossible.

The Jockey finally died as Rochelle reloaded indicating that either Coach and Ellis had succeeded. She relaxed, truly able to breath, and ran to retrieve the cola.

"Are you okay?" Rochelle tucked her Magnum away, and picked up the package.

Nick joined her by the van grabbing his pistol from his belt. "I'm fine."

"I was talking to the cola," she joked not quite sure why she decided to tease him. "We need it to get to the mall, but that's good you're okay too."

Nick dispersed a zombie, sticking a bullet in the center of its forehead. "Well excuse me." He grabbed the cola from her hands-his actions weren't considered to be rude-and muttered to himself. "Damn cola."

Rochelle smirked, and advanced to the stairs. The numbers once again declined giving them a long sprint back to the gun store. They made it to Whitaker without any problems after Ellis took care of the Smoker.

"Put the cola in the slot." Whitaker's voice rang out the speaker, and Nick did as told.

Now in possession of his precious drinks Whitaker fired his weapon. He destroyed the roadblock, as promised, and the alarm fell silent.

Coach wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. His eyes glistened in relief. "Now we can get to the mall."

"And to the evac station," Rochelle added gripping the railing. She looked out at the pile of rubble in the distance where Whitaker cleared the path.

_And to our escape._

_

* * *

_

**Author's Notes:**

First off, I realized I did make a mistake in the previous chapter about Rochelle's job. My apologies and special thanks to those who pointed it out.

It will most likely be a while before another chapter is up. I return to work next week and must get up at six in the morning, so this might put a damper in the quick updates. I'm not talking about weeks of waiting. This will probably just be updated weekly instead of every couple of days.

Plus, I have been putting my original novels aside to work on this-my L4D2 obsession is clearly uncontrollable-but the temptation of my novels is rising and I must return to those.

As always, sorry for any mistakes. I feel the need to put this in every time.

-DJ Dork


	5. Discount on Survival

**-Chapter 4-**  
Discount on Survival

Rochelle paced back and fourth with an easy stride keeping her arms folded. She respired slow and deep breaths looking around the department store each time she turned. She could have sworn the design around Kappal's changed whenever she looked up, but blamed the strange illusion on her migraine pounding with a continuous force.

No matter how hard Rochelle tried she couldn't stay composed long enough to sit. The pain throbbing in her waist was too strong to ignore, and the feeling grew intense whenever she sat. As long as she stood, she was able to accept her screaming body while waiting for the pills to abate the discomfort.

Rochelle passed Nick, sitting against the wall, for the tenth time since they were left alone. She knew he was probably irritated by her constant movement, but if he was he didn't show it. He merely fiddled with his gun, looked out for any lurking zombies, and, on occasions, checked the wounds visible on his legs and chest.

When Rochelle passed by him again he finally broke through her concentration, and the eerie silence of the store. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay. My sides are still a bit sore from that…" Rochelle stopped pacing and tried to remember the name Coach had given the zombie that attacked her.

While the name escaped her mind, the picture of the malformed beast remained clear like a framed portrait. The bulky infected had a small head compared to the size of his body. He had one giant mutated arm which he used to grab and push her around while the other arm shrunk into a useless flailing string of flesh.

Rochelle heaved a sigh, and rubbed her temples feeling lightheaded. "What did Coach call it?" She spun looking over at Nick.

"I'm not sure. A Charger…I think." Nick shrugged. "I don't really care. As long as the bastard's dead."

Rochelle mentally slapped herself. _Of course! It makes sense. It charged at me. _

Nick frowned and leaned forward. Rochelle felt her heart race as she watched him gently pull on his right pant leg. Three freshly opened gashes marked his leg from the unexpected attack of a dangerous and unusual female zombie. Her claws cut straight through the fabric of his clothes leaving another gash on his left leg and a small tear on his blue shirt before she was killed. Blood continued to spill from his wounds coloring his white suit in a carmine tinge, but various shirts gathered from the store helped slow the flow of blood.

Rochelle shuddered and rubbed her arms. _I can still hear her screaming._

Nick faced her, and Rochelle tore her eyes from his wounds meeting his gaze. "Hopefully we find a men's store in this place. I could use a new suit."

Rochelle gave a weak laugh, and stroked her sides relieving the pang. "No one told you to go mess with that crying girl."

Nick raised his hands in defense. "How did I know the bitch was a zombie? We heard crying which is far different from the nonsense those zombies are screaming at us. My first instinct was that she was still human."

"Mine was too, but…" Rochelle listened to her voice trail. She turned on her flashlight shining deeper into the powerless department store where inert bodies laid scattered on counter tops, and underneath rolling racks. "You can never be to sure now a days."

Rochelle turned back after hearing him release a deep sigh. Nick closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. His hand, still clutched to his pants, clumped a ball of fabric within his rolled fist.

She stepped forward afraid he was losing too much blood. "Are you okay, Nick?"

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I'm fine."

Rochelle wanted to protest, but bit her lip knowing there was nothing she could do. Without any health Coach and Ellis had gone ahead to find supplies hoping survivors before them left some around. Due to Nick and Rochelle's injuries they were the ones left behind forced to play the waiting game.

"How much longer do you think they are going to be?" Nick asked.

Rochelle pointed her flashlight through the half closed gate of Kappal's entrance. From her location, the mall looked empty and quiet. Only a few zombies straggled in the far distance, but no signs yet of their companions. It has been well over ten minutes since they split.

"Are you worried?"

"I'm just wondering how long we're going to wait before we assume something happened and we go out looking ourselves." Rochelle didn't know what to say, so Nick continued. "We're just sitting ducks."

"I don't know…" Rochelle sighed. She flashed the light on Nick's wounds and grimaced. "Remember, they went to search for health. You will hurt yourself more if you walk."

"They're probably dead, and we're waiting for no one. We're wasting time," Nick said, pressing on with his litany of complaints.

Rochelle's heart dropped. She shook her head pushing the frightening thought away. She wanted to snap at him for making such a comment, but didn't want to make their current situation worse by arguing. Still, she raised her voice slightly to catch his attention. "Nicolas, can you think of something positive to say?"

Nick snapped his head in her direction with an eyebrow quirked. He must have noticed her frustrated countenance for he quickly loosened up, and softened his tone. "Sure…" Rochelle was astonished to see him give a tiny smirk. "At least we get a discount on survival."

Rochelle rolled her eyes fighting to stay vexed, but couldn't stifle her building laughter. Despite the grim predicament, she found Nick's response to be a little amusing. "That's not exactly the positive response I was looking for."

"I thought women loved anything with discounts."

"Not that kind." Rochelle grinned.

She walked over to the empty counter across from him, and leaned against it. Rochelle kneeled on the ground once the pain in her waist subsided, but she held her head at the migraine failing to give her peace.

"Do you really think that our chance for survival is slim?"

"I'm not sure. Supposedly an evac station is here." He frowned, emphasizing on the word 'supposedly'.

Rochelle looked down and fiddled with her bracelets. Her mind wandered to the future to when they get out of Savannah, and finally reach the safe heaven of New Orleans. She imagined the city becoming a giant evac center, and prayed she would get the chance to see her family and friends again. She missed them, and suddenly was able to grasp a bigger picture of reality. She wasn't watching a movie, or playing some video game where she could easily press reset if her life ended. Any one of them could die just from a careless mistake. Earth's population just might be near the brink of extinction.

Rochelle wiped the single tear rolling down her cheek hoping Nick hasn't noticed. "We're not that far from freedom."

"But what if it's not there?"

_Leave it to Nick to be the one that's pessimistic. _

"Then it looks like you're stuck with us a little longer," Rochelle said rubbing her eyes to fight against exhaustion.

"At least one of you I can tolerate," Nick replied in a whisper, but loud enough for her to hear.

Rochelle's eyes grew, and the thought of being tired slipped away as if she had just awoken from a long nap. She met with Nick's gaze, feeling her heart flutter, and knew exactly who he was talking about. His expression gave it away. She couldn't prevent herself from smiling, but also, for some reason, couldn't prevent the words that escaped her mouth. "Aw, Nick. I didn't know you liked Ellis so much."

Nick huffed and shook his head. He folded his arms looking toward the mall entrance. "Please. That kid needs to grow up."

"You have to admire his attitude about everything."

Nick rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair also showing signs of fatigue. "Sometimes I don't think he grasps the zombie apocalypse situation."

Rochelle agreed but while Nick, and maybe Coach, found that to be annoying she actually enjoyed it. The two of them fell into another lengthy silence waiting. After almost falling asleep twice Rochelle stood to her feet. She grabbed her flashlight with one hand and picked up her AK-47 in the other.

Nick realized this and shifted on the floor to a better position, mindful of his injuries. "Where are you going?"

"To walk around and see if there are any supplies we missed," Rochelle replied.

"Don't wander too far."

"I won't."

Rochelle flipped on her flashlight, and advanced into the gloomy department store, moving in a steady gait. As she treaded deeper down the spacious path, leading back to the safe house, she realized there was nothing useful around-nothing at all. Everything was stripped, and the survivors who passed through must have been cautious and careful about leaving anything behind. Even with Nick's flashlight shining in her direction, casting an extra light, nothing stood out in her view.

She stopped by the escalator, and swallowed staring at the metal stairs descending into an abyss. Rochelle moved her flashlight across the back wall in front of her. The circular light shined on the empty counters and cabinets, on the store name hanging in giant lettering, and on the scattered lifeless bodies with blood dripping from their bullet wounds. Over in the left hand corner, sitting on top of a counter, a silver streak sparkled under the light's glow. Rochelle footsteps headed in the direction curious of the object.

"Rochelle?" Nick called once a floor cabinet blocked their view of each other.

"I'm okay, Nick," she reassured him.

She shuddered, once the source of his flashlight failed to reach her, hating to let the darkness consume. No one knows what lurks in the midst of the dark, but she had to see if the object was useful or not. She wasn't going to let some childish fear turn her away.

Rochelle stepped up to the counter and her jaw lowered at the shimmering katana sword. She ran her fingers across the jagged blade, and chuckled-a little curious why one was laying around.

_Ellis would surely enjoy this._

She smiled at the thought of him finding it, but a sudden movement-a shuffle-caused her to balk. Instincts kicked in and Rochelle cocked her weapon pointing her flashlight with trembling hands. A petite body curled against the wall wearing a torn blue and white dress. The woman had a pixie style haircut, and bright sapphire eyes. Her body was marked with all sorts of wounds, and blood covered every surface of her olive toned skin.

Rochelle prepared herself, ready to fire, but the look in the zombie's eyes halted her finger over the trigger. She saw something she never saw in the undead-something far more human. She saw terror. The woman's bottom lip trembled and she pushed herself against the wall as if trying to escape through concrete. Her chest heaved, but in slow intervals and sobs lifted from her throat.

_She's still human._

"Oh shit…" Rochelle ran to the her aid, but the woman recoiled fearful of her presence. "I'm not a zombie, I swear. Are you okay?"

The woman whimpered and tears streamed down her cheeks. "H-help…me." The soft words barely escaped, and she cringed like a sear of pain tore through her voice box whenever she spoke. "Please…"

"It's going to be okay," Rochelle said keeping her voice low.

She couldn't believe that the woman wasn't an infected. She didn't know what to do, or what else to say. Everything was happening so fast and moving at a pace she couldn't catch up with.

Rochelle set her gun aside, and scrutinized the woman's wounds under the flashlight. With so much blood, Rochelle couldn't tell where her injuries started. The young woman, closer to Ellis's age, has been through just as much hell as them, but unfortunately hasn't been as lucky.

"Please…" The woman whispered, and Rochelle gasped as blood poured from the woman's mouth.

Rochelle suppressed the urge to vomit and looked over her shoulder with tears brimming her eyes. "Nick!"

"Ro?" His anxious voice soon echoed.

"Come quick! I found another survivor, but she's in critical condition."

"Rochelle!" Nick called again, but Rochelle didn't respond. She turned back to the woman sliding toward the ground like her strength depleted.

"Please stay with me," Rochelle pleaded placing her hand on the woman's shoulder. "Try to fight it."

"I…can't…" The woman shut her eyes; the color drained from her face.

"Ro? Where the hell are you?"

Another light flashed into view, and Nick popped around the cabinet limping closer. Rochelle looked back at him anticipating his countenance. His eyes switched glances from her to the dying woman. His jaw dropped, but he arched his eyebrows pressing his lips together. He kept his gun raised and aimed carefully at the woman's head.

"We have to help her."

Nick shook his head. His astonished expression fell to a serious demeanor. "Get away from her, Ro."

"She's still human."

"Not for long."

A knot rose to Rochelle's throat seeing Nick's finger tighten around the trigger, close to firing. A growl vibrated in her eardrum, and she spun back to the woman who opened her now white lifeless eyes. Rochelle screamed and jumped on her back lifting her foot to prevent the lunging zombie from reaching her. Gunfire rattled Kappal's department store, and the weight against her foot subsided as the body toppled to the ground.

Even after the commotion died, Rochelle remained on her back lowering her leg. She closed her eyes listening to herself sob. Tears poured, squeezing from underneath her eyelids, and raced down the side of her cheeks dripping into her ears.

_This shit cannot be happening. _

"Ro?"

Rochelle opened her eyes seeing Nick outstretch his hand. She accepted it, and with his help rose back to her feet. She avoided eye contact with the body and grabbed her gun ready to return to the mall entrance, but her legs didn't budge. Nick stood in front of her leaning against the counter for support. Rochelle abruptly wiped her eyes embarrassed to be crying to in front of him, but she needed to let her bundling emotions free.

"I really thought that…" Rochelle sighed. "…we could have saved her."

Nick frowned. "Maybe we could of, but we were too late. It's like I said before…"

"I know." Rochelle nodded.

_Discount on survival. _

Funny how his statement from earlier connects to this event-ringing truer in her ears.

"You ready to go back?" Nick asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Rochelle nodded again. "Yes, let's go."

* * *

They continued to wait for Coach and Ellis for another ten minutes in silence. A conversation relating to the woman was never brought to attention, but that didn't stop it from swirling in Rochelle's mind. By some chance of fate she was sent to that dying woman. Rochelle believed she was supposed to save her, but didn't, and then questioned where this will take her. Will she face the same fate now?

Rochelle shut her eyes. Not even hunger or sleep could prevent the thoughts from taking over. She wished Ellis was with her. To her own surprise, she wanted Ellis because she knew he would be able to help push the incident away. He had that gift to make everything alright.

Since they returned to Kappal's entrance, Rochelle had sensed Nick watching her to make sure she was okay. She had cried a few more times, but eventually the tears stopped flowing.

_I need to stop and just move on. Crying isn't going to do anything. _

When she lifted her eyes from her hands, Nick was still watching. "Thank you."

"No need to apologize."

"I feel the need. You were right."

"It's a good thing you wanted to help her, but not everyone is immune. You have to be more cautious because…you know I'm not going to be around for much longer to keep saving you."

Rochelle wanted to smile, but couldn't. "I'm not the one who always needs to be saved. I think I did save you once before."

"When?" Nick folded his arm.

"You were screaming at us to get the crying lady off of you, and I killed her." Nick held her gaze, staring in disbelief, thinking back to the event. When he failed to respond, Rochelle laughed once. "Are you surprised that a woman saved your ass?"

Nick smirked and leaned his head back. "Not quite."

"Rochelle! Nick!"

Rochelle's head perked, and she rose to her feet smiling at the sound of Coach's voice. Two flashlight beams in the distance and sliced across the darkness.

"Coach!" She waved her hand, and soon enough Coach and Ellis returned with three bottles of pills and a med-kit.

"About time," Nick said as Coach knelt next to him with a med-kit in hand.

"Sorry, we had ran into some trouble," Coach apologized tearing open a package of gauze, and reaching for the rubbing alcohol.

Ellis laughed walking around the counter with his gun resting on his shoulder. "But it's nothin' we couldn't handle. We traveled pretty far too, and found a path that will get us out of here. How about y'all? Encounter any problems?"

Nick and Rochelle both exchanged glances, and Rochelle thought best not to mention it-at least not yet. "No, but I did find something you might like."

Ellis grinned. "Really? What?"

"A surprise."

"I love surprises."

She led him back into the department store listening to Coach and Nick's words fade behind them. She didn't want to return, but really wanted Ellis to take the katana sword before they left. She could already imagine the look on his face. By the time they passed the escalators, Ellis hopped in front and looked down at her with a strike of concern.

"You okay, Ro?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?" She briefly lowered her flashlight so the bulb wouldn't blind his view. The light brightened his yellow Bull Shifters t-shirt.

"I can tell you have been crying."

Rochelle sighed. "It's just…." _I can't tell him what happened_. "All of this stuff going on at once it's still difficult to grasp."

"Everythin' will be okay."

"I know." Rochelle shined her flashlight on the counter, and nodded her head that direction. "And for you it's getting better."

Ellis followed her gaze, and immediately locked to the weapon. "Oh man." He raced to the katana sword taking it within his hands. "How did you know I'd loved this?" Ellis twirled to face her, and his spirited expression mimicked exactly what she pictured in her head.

Rochelle shrugged. "I just knew."

"This totally kicks ass." Ellis swiped the katana sword in the air completely oblivious to the lifeless woman laying on the ground by his feet-the one who fought to resist the infection.

Rochelle's cheerfulness faltered, and she inhaled a quick breath. "You ready, Ellis?"

"Ya, let's go. I can't wait to show Coach and Nick. They're gonna be jealous."

Rochelle grinned and nodded as Ellis walked by, but like before her feet wouldn't budge no matter how hard she tired. Her sights lingered to the woman hidden now within the gloom.

_I'm sorry. _

"Come on, Ro."

She cast the woman a final glance before Ellis returned and took her hand. He pulled her along, and they walked back to the others.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I wrote this entire chapter last night. Once I started my fingers would not stop pounding on the keyboard. I love it when I seriously get in the mood to write.

I don't have much to say except I laugh every time I read the title.

My apologies for mistakes. Blah. Blah. Blah. You've heard it all before.

Thank you to everyone who reviews! You guys are awesome beyond belief.

-DJ Dork


	6. You're Saying What You Know

**-Chapter 5-  
**You're Saying What You Know

Rochelle flinched, and shot up from the floor in a daze. She panted, chest heaving, and waited for her eyes to adjust. She wiped the sweat off her forehead, and looked about the room when her vision returned to normal. It took a moment before she remembered her exact location. The table, filled with an assortment of guns and three med-kits, helped regain her memory and Rochelle sighed pushing her back against the wall.

The silence filtering the room was a bit terrifying, and even with peace Rochelle had difficulty staying asleep. She wasn't sure how long she slept this time around, but knew it couldn't have been more than an hour. Rochelle switched her glances between the two men in the room with her, and smiled.

_At least some people are able to get some shut eye. _

Ellis slept on his back by the adjacent wall across from her, right next to the door. He had his arms behind his head with his legs crossed, and his hat covering his eyes. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his steady breathing, and every good exhale a slight snore created a little bit of life in the dull room.

Nick slept near the fence barricade off to her left. He also laid on his back, but folded his jacket using it as a pillow. Both arms rested across his stomach cradling a pistol. Normally Rochelle would find it unusual for someone to sleep with a gun, but under their circumstances one would be crazy to do without.

Rochelle rubbed her eyes, feeling herself lie on the edge of dormancy, and leaned her head back. Her sights wandered across the writings on the wall-conversations between distant survivors-and she read a few to herself.

_It's not a flu. Get out while you still can. _

_Where is CEDA? _

_All of the evacs are empty!_

Rochelle shook her head. She wasn't compelled to believe the sentences right away, and was tempted to add her own scribble to the mix, but didn't know what to say. She then wondered if there would be any point. None of them knew if there were any more survivors lagging behind.

The thought brought back memories of the young woman she found in Kappal's, and Rochelle stood to her feet. She had pushed the image away, and needed something else to distract her mind. Since both Nick and Ellis were asleep she left the safe house to join Coach on watch.

Rochelle closed the door behind her, and looked around the vicinity of the dim and quiet Liberty Mall. She found Coach, not far from the door, sitting on a bench in front of the glass railing. His exhausted eyes looked down at the view of the two floors, and he held a sniper rifle in his hands. His distant unmoving expression showed that he was washed away in his own cogitations.

As Rochelle approached him, Coach turned his head and frowned. "Did my shootin' wake you up?"

"No," Rochelle answered. She took a seat next to him with her hands in her lap. "I just can't sleep."

"That's understandable," Coach said turning back to the mall. "Once you get use to all of this shit sleep will return like normal."

"Hopefully that's soon." Rochelle looked down at the second floor landing where the search light shined on a pile of lifeless bodies-each once suffering the wrath of Coach's bullets. "Were you in deep thought just now?"

Coach pressed his lips together and nodded. He let a silence dance between them before speaking. "About my family."

Rochelle faced him. "Did they make it out?"

"I hope. I pray."

Rochelle looked away and lingered on the Hobbs Book store in the distance. She thought about her own family. Her mother. Her father. Her younger sister. She wondered if they escaped the infection, and hoped and prayed just like Coach.

"I'll pray with you." Rochelle turned back meeting his gaze, and smiled. "Do you have kids?"

"Two of them," Coach said indicating by lifting two of his fingers. "Both girls."

Rochelle's eyes widened, and she nodded. "I see. It's harder then, huh? Daddy always has to protect his girls."

Coach chuckled rubbing his small beard. "Yeah, but they're at that stage where they'd rather not have daddy breathin' over their shoulders constantly."

"Teenagers?"

"15 and 13."

"I'm sure they made it to safety," Rochelle explained, trying to boost Coach's spirit. "They're with their mother right?"

Coach nodded. "I'm sure they did too. I worry about them a lot, but right now I have a new family to worry about."

Rochelle raised her eyebrows. "You mean us?"

Coach rose from his seat, and cocked the sniper rifle peering through the scope. Rochelle leaned forward looking down at the second floor where a lone zombie limped through the sea of dead. "Yeah, I know it's strange to think that when we all have just met, but there's nothin' stronger than family, you know? We need our strength to get outta here."

Rochelle agreed tensing her body as Coach braced himself, preparing to pull back on the trigger. When the zombie stopped to retch, he fired. Even though she was anticipating the gunfire Rochelle still jumped startled, listening to the bang echo deeper into the mall.

"We better learn to treat each other as family. CEDA ain't doin' a damn thing to help us," Coach retorted returning to his seat. He sighed scrunching his face as he messaged his knee.

Rochelle remembered the writing on the wall. "What are our plans now?"

"We might have to travel to New Orleans ourselves," Coach said.

Rochelle frowned and swallowed hard imaging the distance between Savannah and New Orleans.

_That's a lot of zombies._

Coach put his hand on her shoulder with a faithful and weak smile. "No need to worry, little sis. We'll make it."

"I know."

Coach removed his hand, and placed it over his round stomach. "Man, I could go for a nice thick burger right now."

Rochelle closed her eyes rubbing her lips together. Her stomach growled just at the thought of biting into a hot and juicy burger, igniting her taste buds with ecstasy. "Hmm, with extra cheese and bacon."

Coach laughed. "That would be some good eatin'. I always begin to think about food when I'm tired."

Rochelle twisted her head seeing the redness in his lethargic eyes. "You do look exhausted."

"I am. Would you do me a favor and get Ellis? Let the boy know it is time for his watch."

"Sure thing, Coach."

As Rochelle returned to the red door shots fired behind her. She jerked her head over her shoulder to Coach. The older man was on his feet aiming at a group of zombies dashing up the escalator to the third floor. Rochelle lingered by the door making sure he was capable of dispatching the small horde. Once the gunfire ceased, Rochelle opened the door and stepped inside surprised to see Ellis and Nick in the same positions.

Rochelle joined Ellis's side, and knelt beside him. She placed her hand on his stomach, shaking him gently, but he failed to budge. "Ellis?"

She pushed him harder and stifled her laughter watching as he jerked, mumbling a few incoherent sentences. Keith was the only word that stood out in her ears. He shifted on the floor, unfolding his legs, and fell back into his peaceful slumber.

"Ellis," Rochelle said again as she grabbed the brim of his hat and removed it from his face.

She opened her mouth about to call him a third time, but his name jumbled in her throat, and a smile tugged at end of her lips. With his entire face exposed Rochelle was able to see Ellis's full features, now that his didn't cover his short curly strands of unruly hair. She hated to wake him feeling herself being drawn-pulled by an unknown force-at how adorable and surprisingly good-looking he was. Just as she felt herself sinking deeper she grabbed a hold of reality, and mentally slapped herself.

_Why am I thinking about this? _

Rochelle shook her head, and poked Ellis right beneath his ribcage. He flinched, recoiling from her touch, and shot up from the ground.

"Hey, that tickles!"

"About time you got up," Rochelle said as Ellis yawned rubbing his eyes. "You're a heavy sleeper you know."

"I know." Ellis ran his fingers through his hair. "What's up, Ro?"

"Coach says it's your turn for watch." She smiled placing his hat back on his head.

"Okay, I'm gettin' up."

Rochelle returned to her spot against the wall this time hoping to actually get a decent shut eye. She leaned back, crossing her legs, and stared at Ellis who stretched his arms and adjusted his hat. She couldn't help but ask. "You and Keith were good friends, huh?"

Ellis grinned, and just like magic any remnants of sleep wiped clean from his face. "Hell ya! Keith and I would do all sorts of crazy shit. I've known him since I was a kid. It's a shame we got separate at the hotel when the outbreak got outta control. I'm sure though he got into one of them whirly-birds, and is already waitin' at New Orleans." Ellis paused, and pushed himself to his feet. "We'll meet him there, and all of us can team up and kick some zombie asses. It will be me, you, Keith, Coach, and Nick. Wow, we'd be an unstoppable team right there, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Rochelle smiled picking at her nails. "You're saying what you know."

"What?"

Rochelle laughed. "You're saying what you know," she repeated. "It's a little thing me and my mother started. Every time I'd visit my mother I'd tell her all of these stories I heard at work, on the streets, anywhere. Sometimes she would argue with me, and I'd always like to prove her wrong. She hated that, and eventually just let me win." Rochelle chuckled to herself letting memories of their lighthearted arguments resurface. "Anytime I would say 'you know what I'm saying?' she would just reply with 'you're saying what you know.' From then on it was just something that occurred between the two of us."

"Wow, hey that's really cool." Ellis picked up his katana never losing his grin. "I really like that. You must enjoy telling stories as well."

"Just like you."

Ellis turned his head to the poster on the wall. He pointed to the racecar driver donning a white and blue suit. "Exactly. Like that right there is Jimmy Gibbs, Jr. He's the man. I mean I don't know anybody like him. But there was this guy I knew, he raced dirt tracks, not stock cars but open wheeled cars you know, and he was racing once and a goat…"

"Ellis," Nick's voice interrupted the story. "Is now the best time?" he asked slightly weary and irritated.

"Okay." Ellis dropped his arm darting his eyes in Nick's direction. "I didn't know you were awake, Nick."

"Well, it's kind of hard to sleep when there is a lot of talking going on."

Rochelle watched as Nick sat up, and rubbed his eyes still clutching his pistol in one hand. She drew her gaze away from him, and back to the poster of Jimmy Gibbs Jr. "Who exactly is Jimmy Gibbs Jr?"

Ellis faced her in disbelief, but before he could say another word the safe house door opened and Coach shuffled into the room.

"What's takin' you so long, Ellis?" Coach asked waving his gun in the air.

"Sorry Coach. We got carried away with somethin'. Can you believe that Rochelle doesn't know who Jimmy Gibbs Jr. is?"

"I don't know who he is either," Nick spoke up.

"Well trust me-" Coach said closing the door, and walking over to the table to put his sniper rifle down. "-In these parts he as famous as…Elvis, or the president."

Ellis nodded in agreement clutching tighter to his katana. "That man is an American hero."

"Really?" Nick shook his head not the least bit amused. He leaned against the metal fence. "He looks like an asshole."

Ellis frowned and glowered at Nick with an intense stare. "Now hold on. You've been makin' jokes about Savannah all day long, and I've held my tongue. But don't belittle Jimmy Gibbs Jr. That man is the pride of Georgia."

Nick, slightly speechless, turned to Rochelle with his jaw lowered. He raised an eyebrow, wrinkling his face with an equal mix of shock and confusion. Rochelle shrugged, astonished herself to see Ellis actually standing tall against Nick.

"You must be a really big fan, Ellis," Rochelle explained hoping to dwindle Ellis's mood.

Ellis tore his sights from Nick, and smirked. "He's the greatest driver ever to climb into a stock car. If the laws of nature would allow it, I would bear that man's children."

Rochelle threw her hand over her mouth taken back by Ellis's comment. Even Coach found that one to be a bit over the top, but with exhaustion clinging to him he lowered himself to the ground ready to fall asleep. Nick, on the other hand, furrowed his brow with unconcealed disgust.

"Ellis!"

"Yeah, Nick?"

Nick thrust his arm toward the door and pointed. "Go to watch."

Ellis advanced toward the door with a little less gleam in his step. Rochelle caught his dismayed look, and couldn't help but cheer him up.

"Have fun, Ellis."

Ellis grinned in her direction casting her a warm ecstatic glance. Her heart raced, and she watched him leave the safe house. Even after he was gone her gaze remained locked on the door.

Nick huffed. "How the hell am I supposed to sleep with that image on my mind?"

Rochelle finally broke away, and fiddled with her bracelets. "It was a bit too much, but that's typical Ellis."

"God, that kid can sure talk." Nick rubbed his temples.

"Come on, Nick. I'm sure you have your own share of stories," Rochelle retorted.

"Nothing that can top that."

"I bet you can."

Nick sighed and lowered his head onto his self made pillow. "Maybe some other time."

Rochelle exchanged glances with Coach who could barely keep his eyes open. He gave her a nod as if already aware of what she was thinking. "You promise?" she asked Nick.

Nick rolled onto his side turning away from them. He softened his voice failing to hide the smile radiating from his tone. "Sure, why not?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **

When I plan to write long pieces I end up creating an outline of the entire story. This helps to make sure I know the direction of the story, and to make sure I am never stuck in any place. Well, I have a tendency to stray from that outline. This is pretty much an extra chapter, because I originally never intended to write it.

I am not going to lie. The "you know what I'm saying/you're saying what you know" bit I read from a story called _"If It Ain't One Thing,"_ by Cheryl Robinson. After reading that, I couldn't help but think about Rochelle and Ellis. Thus, this extra chapter was born. I'm giving you the heads up now I didn't not create it.

Gah, Ellis is like…stuck on my mind. I can't get him out!

-DJ Dork


	7. Praise the Lord for Jimmy Gibbs Jr

**-Chapter 6-  
**Praise the Lord for Jimmy Gibbs Jr.

"Rochelle? Wake up. Rochelle?"

Rochelle flinched, and opened her eyes feeling a firm hand on her shoulders. She blinked a couple of times waiting for her mind to hurl back into a state of consciousness. The first thing Rochelle noticed was the object in her hands-a stack of papers compiled together in a heavy pile. She furrowed her brow in confusion, and let her sights scrutinize her surroundings. Her eyes darted from the desk, to the window, to the set of pictures on the walls, and to the desk again. After collecting her thoughts, and fitting the pieces together, Rochelle was drowned in a strange sense of déjà vu.

_I'm in Mrs. Harris's office. _

"Rochelle?" the familiar and concerned voice called again.

Rochelle jerked her head toward the figure towering over, and her heart dropped. "M-Mrs. Harris?"

Mrs. Harris nodded, and lowering her arm to her side. She wore the exact same attire as Rochelle last saw her. "Were you expecting someone else?"

Rochelle's mouth hung agape, and she once again looked around the room. She listened to the cars race down the streets outside, and heard footsteps and conversations increase and fade pass the door.

"What's going on?"

"I left real quick to attend to something, and when I returned you were asleep."

_Asleep? _

Rochelle shook her head, and examined her wound free arms. She touched her face rubbing her fingers across her smooth and bruise less skin. She remembered everything that occurred in Savannah. The zombies. The burning hotel. The cola. The mall. She remembered it all, but somehow-someway-none of it occurred. The thought caused Rochelle to jump to her feet, and she dropped the papers in the process. The numerous typed sheets swooshed and flopped to the ground in a messy display, and Mrs. Harris stepped back astonished by Rochelle's actions.

"Rochelle?" she called, irritated.

Rochelle ignored Mrs. Harris and bolted around the desk literally pressing herself against the window. Her heart raced as she watched the cars drive down the slick narrow roads, and the people walking on the sidewalks, bundled in thin jackets.

"What happened to Nick? And Coach?" Rochelle twirled around, meeting Mrs. Harris's perplexed gaze. "And Ellis?"

Mrs. Harris frowned scrunching her face. A set of lines wrinkled across her forehead. "Who?"

"I met them in Savannah."

"Rochelle, you are traveling to Savannah tomorrow."

"Wha-" Rochelle's eyes widened. She rolled her fingers to a fist and shook her head, over and over again. She opened her mouth, and the words barely lifted from her throat. "That can't be…"

Mrs. Harris nodded. "It is. Not to long ago you said you'd be willing to go and report a story down in Savannah."

"A story…" Rochelle muttered to herself averting her gaze.

"Your flight leaves tomorrow at eight in the morning, and you will be teamed with-Rochelle are you listening?"

"The story…" Rochelle echoed, this time louder. She turned back to Mrs. Harris. "This outbreak is not a flu. It's far more dangerous than that. A lot of people are going to die."

"How do you know all of this?" Mrs. Harris asked, clearly not believing any of the words. "Did you dream this?"

"It wasn't a dream, dammit!" Rochelle bit her lip hoping to catch herself, but the suffocating aggravation slipped through too soon, and hit the air transforming into sudden regret.

Mrs. Harris held her gaze, her countenance striking as ever, and folded her arms. "Maybe you need to go home."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harris…but you don't understand."

"I understand clearly that maybe this isn't the job for you." Mrs. Harris stepped forward, and reached for the phone.

Rochelle pleaded for Mrs. Harris to listen, but her boss ignored her cries. Rochelle collapsed against the window amazed to still be standing on her feet. Her brain quickly skimmed through the possibilities. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe she will head to Savannah, if she still has a job, and find it nothing compared to what she thought she faced.

Rochelle frowned and reminisced deeper. It was all too real and painful to be a dream. Everything breathing moment was vivid, and scary. She couldn't get Nick, Coach or Ellis out of her head and soon questioned their existence. Where they just illusions her mind created, or were they actual people waiting for her down in Savannah?

_I need some answers. _

Rochelle shuddered, feeling lost and out of place. She rubbed her arms and tried again. "Mrs. Harris…"

Mrs. Harris refused her gaze, and picked up the receiver. She was about to dial, but her fingers stopped moments before pressing the number key. The ground beneath them trembled, faint first, but then grew and increased with each passing minute. Soon, the vibrating force began to affect their balance, and every object in the room.

Rochelle sunk to the floor catching her breath, and Mrs. Harris looked up clutching the edge of the table with her free hand. The pictures broke free from the walls, toppling to the floor one by one. The lamp on the desk bounced to the ground and the bulb shattered upon impact. Rochelle looked over her shoulder at life outside the office room. No one appeared to be affected by the violent tremors.

Mrs. Harris dropped the phone letting it dangle by its twirling cord. "Is this an earthquake?"

"No…" Rochelle replied. Dream or not, she was prepared for what they were about to face. "It's far worse."

A deep threatening roar sounded outside the office door, and the rumbling ceased. Rochelle turned to the door, and braced herself recoiling against the window. The seconds of peace shattered as the wall imploded hurtling broken shards of concrete, glass and wood in their direction. She heard Mrs. Harris' scream, but then wondered if it was her own.

A billow of smoke wafted in the room distorting Rochelle's vision, and she hesitated lowering her guard. As the haze cleared, a massive and heavily infected stood in the midst of the destroyed rubble. Rochelle inhaled a sharp breath staring at the enormous beast with its abnormally small head, and bulky monstrous arms.

_A Tank! _Rochelle screamed to herself. She couldn't find her voice.

"Rochelle!" Mrs. Harris screamed struggling to stand to her feet after being knocked over from the explosion. Thick blood poured down her leg from a deep laceration, and dripped slowly from the cut on her hairline.

The Tank pounded his fists on the ground creating another massive tremor. The window shattered, and glass rained upon Rochelle and the streets below. Rochelle cursed and reached for the pistol she usually kept hooked to her waist. She grabbed her jeans discovering no gun.

_Shit, I forgot._

The Tank roared and targeted Mrs. Harris heading in her direction. Rochelle stood to her feet wanting to help, but without a weapon all she could do was watch in horror. The Tank swung his arm and delivered a bone crushing blow. Mrs. Harris's flailing body met the side wall like a bullet, and she plopped to the ground motionless. Blood splattered across the indent on the wall from her collision. Rochelle's body trembled, and she couldn't prevent the tears escaping from her eyes. When the Tank faced her Rochelle screamed.

The Tank raced toward her, and Rochelle almost pushed herself to leap out the window, but instead her legs buckled. She fell to her knees, and closed her eyes awaiting the pain-awaiting death.

* * *

"Ro!"

"Little sis, wake up!"

Rochelle whimpered, and a squeak escape her through her lips. She hurtled herself forward, but a tight constraint across her chest held her back. A gentle hand touched her arm, and Rochelle opened her eyes facing a cracked dirty windshield covered with random blotches of blood like droppings of bird poop. She frowned at the bumpy and swerving movements of the car as debris littered the dark streets before them.

"Are you okay, Ro?" the comforting southern draw entered her ears.

"Ellis?" Rochelle turned to Ellis behind the steering wheel. He met her gaze with a smile keeping his hand on her arm.

"Boy, pay attention to the road!" Coach's voice from the backseat ordered.

Ellis snapped to attention, and grabbed the wheel with both hands. "Sorry, Coach."

Rochelle sat up, and glanced to the backseat. Coach sat behind her snug in between the door and a sleeping Nick. She turned back around, and leaned her head against the rest with a relived sigh.

_A dream…it was all a dream. _Rochelle shook her head. _No, a nightmare. _

"Where are we?" Rochelle asked.

"Drivin' to New Orleans. Remember we appropriated Jimmy Gibb's Jr. car back at the mall?" Ellis asked, keeping his sights on the road.

"Yeah…" Rochelle placed her hand over her heart feeling it batter within her ribcage.

Everything was coming back to her now, but her dream still overpowered. Did Mrs. Harris really die at the hands of a Tank? Rochelle shuddered pushing the gruesome image away. She hoped not.

Ellis snickered tapping the wheel with his fingers. "We've been on the road for about an hour, I would guess."

Coach sighed from the backseat. "Praise the Lord for Jimmy Gibb's Jr." He moved forward, and Rochelle felt his hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay, little sis? You were whimperin' in your sleep."

"I just had a small nightmare, I'm fine. Were you sleep Coach?"

Coach removed his hand and leaned back. "I was for a little bit, but the swervin' and bumps kept wakin' me."

"Sorry," Ellis blurted.

Coach gave a small chuckle. "It's not your fault. Not everyone here can sleep like Nick."

Rochelle looked back at Nick and smiled. "He's cute while he's asleep."

Coach wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "He's also not complainin'."

"True…" Rochelle turned to Ellis and frowned. "Are you tried?"

"Hell ya," Ellis laughed gripping tighter to the steering wheel. The lights from the dashboard shined on his shimmered eyes. "But I'm behind the wheel of Jimmy Gibbs Jr.'s stock car. I'm on cloud nine, baby!"

Rochelle laughed and turned to the road. They were on a highway and heading west according to the sign they passed a half a mile back. The usually straight road now turned into a winding path with the scattered abandoned cars blocking the way. On occasions, Ellis would have to drive through the grass embankment.

A zombie wandered into the middle of the highway and froze with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights. Rochelle gripped the door handle as Ellis accelerated. He drove right into the male undead and the car jerked slightly from the impact. The body flipped onto the hood, hit the windshield, and flew out of view landing somewhere in the darkness behind them.

Rochelle exhaled, releasing the breath she had been holding in.

The zombies-the threats-continued to thwart.

"Coach, do you think we're going to make it to New Orleans?" she asked, ready to start some conversation to fill the silence between them.

Coach sighed and looked out the window. "I'm not sure, but I ain't gonna stop prayin'. We have to try, right?"

Rochelle nodded. "You guys wouldn't laugh if I admitted I was scared, would you?"

"Nope," Ellis replied.

"There is nothing wrong with being scared," Coach soothed. "Being scared let's you know you are still human."

_Still human._

Rochelle tugged at the seatbelt. They were still humans. They didn't have the crave for human flesh or wandered around without a soul. They had emotions. They had ambitions, and fears. They still had everything except a home, food, and enough supplies.

"Hey, you guys don't think we will change into one of them zombies, do ya?" Ellis turned the wheel and drove around an overturned car taking out another zombie.

Coach waited until the bumpiness subsided. "I think we would have done so by now."

Rochelle lolled in the seat and lifted her legs hugging herself. "I don't want to think about it."

"Everythin' is going to be okay," Coach assured. "We will get outta here. Now, I ain't trying to jinx ourselves, but if drivin' doesn't work then we will walk, take a train, or even swim. The only thing we can't do is fly."

"Unless we have one of them copters," Ellis interrupted. "Like I saw one pick up another group of survivors. Three males and a female like us. Can you believe it?"

"We're not the only ones still trying to escape," Rochelle muttered surprised to hear other people in the same predicament successfully made it out.

"As long as we keep our focus on escaping then we will make it New Orleans, find our families, and hopefully start anew-" Coach chuckled. "-and find some food."

Rochelle listened to her and Ellis's laughter drown the car. Typical of Coach to bring up the subject of food. "I get what you're saying, Coach."

Ellis smirked. "You're sayin' what you know."

Rochelle and Ellis both exchanged a glance, and the two laughed again.

"What the hell is so funny?" Nick asked, stirring awake in the backseat.

"You just missed Coach's pep talk about us gettin' out of here," Ellis answered, briefly peering in the rearview mirror.

"Oh, well sorry I'm missed the rally."

Coach frowned, and ignored the comment. "You might as well just stay with us Nick. I understand you want to go do your own thing, but it's best if we stick together as a group."

"I'll think about it." Nick stretched his arms and cracked his neck. "Besides, someone has to stay around to save your asses. You guys are more dangerous to each other than the zombies."

Coach grumbled rolling his eyes. "On second thought…"

"Aw, come on Nick, we're not that bad," Ellis explained. "I say we did a pretty good job and gettin' out of that mall."

"Yea, barely."

"Just admit it you're stick with us, Nick. Just like I told you so," Rochelle said smirking.

Nick shrugged. "I might as well stick around, you guys might miss me if I leave."

Rochelle could feel Nick watching her as if waiting for a reply, but she refused to meet his gaze and stared out the window. She listened to Coach's irritated sigh, and out the corner of her eye saw Ellis shaking his head in laughter. Rochelle rubbed at the goose bumps along her arms, and chuckled. She couldn't actually admit it, but she knew.

If Nick ever did leave, dare she say it, she would miss him.

End of Part I

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

Not as long as my other chapters, but I still enjoyed this one. I managed to dish this out in one sitting.

I don't have much to say this time around except for my apologizes if the first part was a little gruesome.

Thank you for all the reviews! It is because of all your thoughtful and kind words that keep these updates coming fast and going strong.

Ignore the mistakes, if you spot any.

-DJ Dork


	8. Highway of Zombies and Broken Dreams

Part II

**-Chapter 7-  
**Highway of Zombies and Broken Dreams

Stars.

Rochelle had never realized it before, but they captivated her-holding her dazzled gaze. Her life growing up in a city prevented them from emerging at night. She always knew they were there, somewhere, lost within the illuminating nightlife of Cleveland, but now she was able to witness their beauty. The massive balls of plasma stretched across the velvet sky like a thick blanket. Some stars outshined others, but all together the luminous collection lit their way.

Rochelle kept her chin raised, and performed a half twirl staring for as long as she could. She never wanted to tear her attention away and imagined herself floating within the sky's presence-safe and free. The stars became their guidance, and the only thing that the zombies couldn't change or control. The stars were like eyes watching her-all of them. She remembered a conversation she had with her mother over the phone. One relating to the stars, and wishes. Rochelle closed her eyes falling deeper into the past memories as the breeze caressed her skin settling her mind.

__

"I like to wish upon the stars sometimes." Her mother's voice dropped into a dream like trance, and Rochelle laughed.

"Ma, you can't even see the stars here."

"They are always there."

"Why wish upon the stars?" Rochelle frowned and wrinkled her nose. She twirled her fingers around the phone cord lolling on her leather sectional couch. "Our lives aren't fairytales, you know."

"Ro-Ro, it doesn't stop me from believing."

Rochelle's fingers tightened around her axe. She leaned against the nearest car, and the cold metal greeting her bare arms pulled her back to reality. She finally lowered her gaze, and her listless eyes scaled the view.

_Fairytales, ma?_ She thought. _What the hell kind of fairytale is this? _

The highway stretched for miles, and littered with endless stalled cars which hindered their advantage in using Jimmy Gibbs Jr's vehicle. Now, they were forced to travel on foot, but so far only encountered a small horde. Luckily for them most of the zombies were already dispatched of before their arrival. Their deceased bodies scattered across the grass median, and pavement like a mixture of waste and road kill.

Voices of her male companions reached her ears as they trailed behind, catching up to her location. She twisted her neck in their direction watching as Nick led, and strode quickly through the maze of vehicles. He clutched a sniper rifle in one hand, and glanced into the car windows checking for anything useful. There was a bit of distance between him and Coach, who moved at his own pace. The older gentlemen was in a deep and cheerful conversation with Ellis about Whispering Oaks-an amusement park two miles away.

Rochelle turned back to the sky once Nick's shuffling filled her ears. She let her axe dangle by her feet and enjoyed the short breather. She knew that once Coach and Ellis caught up they would be on the move again.

"Did you check this car yet?" Nick asked. He peeked into backseat on the driver's side and pressed his face against tinted window.

"No." Rochelle felt Nick's presence next to her, but her eyes continued to dart from star to star.

"Shit." Nick cursed with a sigh. He straightened, and rubbed his eyes. "Nothing, yet again." He leaned against the door, and rested his arm along the roof of the car. His gaze followed hers to the midnight sky above, lingering for a few quick moment, before returning to her. "What are you going to find up there?"

"I don't know." Rochelle shrugged, shaking her head. "I have never seen so many stars at night before."

"You're a city girl, huh?"

Rochelle lowered her head still refusing his gaze. "Yeah. Cleveland."

Nick pursed his lips and nodded. He tapped his weapon against his leg. "I've never been to Cleveland before."

"Where have you been?"

Nick shrugged, and frowned. "I've been around." He returned to a stance, and slid by her continuing down the highway.

"Have you ever noticed them before?" Rochelle picked up her axe, and pushed herself off the car. She pursued after him, like a bug being drawn by the light, as he now took the lead.

"Noticed what?" Nick asked over his shoulder. "The stars?"

"Yeah."

Nick kicked at the loose ball of asphalt by his feet. "Pff, why would I?"

"I was just asking."

Rochelle walked around a dented, and bloodied pick-up truck. She ventured away from Nick and moved deeper into the middle of the two lane interstate. The rotten smell of decaying bodies caused her stomach to churn, but she merely stepped over them returning to their small task in finding supplies. The first couple of cars were filled with garbage, clothes, and dead cell phones, but the white Honda with Florida plates created a sudden scare. Rochelle looked through the back window, and spotted a car seat-one fitted for an infant or toddler. Her heart lurched, kicking into overtime, and she swung her axe. Rochelle closed her eyes feeling the weapon collide into the window, shattering the glass with ease. Shards sputtered in the air, falling to the ground in tiny pieces. She used her weapon to scrape away the excess glass, and leaned inside inhaling the sweet and pungent air freshener.

Rochelle dropped her axe and lifted onto the tip of her toes. She reached forward, bracing herself for what she might see, and clasped the edge of the empty car seat. Rochelle froze, and relaxed. Her chest heaved a relieving sigh, and immediately her thoughts raced to the baby escaping with its family. While the negatives refused to desist, Rochelle fought to keep herself from expecting the worse.

A slightly opened bag on the floor, partially hidden by the car seat, caught Rochelle's attention. Keeping herself somewhat balance, Rochelle stretched for the backpack. She was unable to fully grab the bag's sleeve, but shifted it enough to catch a glimpse of a plastic wrapper sticking out of the unzipped pocket. The visible color designs flashed a familiar item in her mind.

__

Bread…Food!

Rochelle slipped out of the window landing back on her feet. She massaged the short pang across her abdomen, and unlocked the door.

"Nick." She called as she snagged the backpack, and slammed the door with the kick of her foot.

"Ro?" Nick's suit popped into view ahead, and he slid across a vehicle's trunk returning in her direction.

"I found food." Rochelle fumbled with the bag, due to the jitters awakening inside of her. Her mouth began to water, already savoring and anticipating the first bite. She finished unzipping the main pocket, and looked over her shoulder at Coach and Ellis lagging behind. "Gentlemen, put an extra hop in your step!"

"We're comin' hold on," Ellis's voice called back to her.

"What did you find?" Nick was the first to reach her. His eyes grew as she removed the unopened wheat bread.

"Food." Rochelle handed Nick the bread, and dug through the contents running down the list as she spotted them. "Chips. Apples. Oranges. Twinkies. A can of soup. Beef Jerkey. Assortment of candy. Peanut Butter." She couldn't stifle her laughter. Not too long ago she believed they would die of starvation instead of being eaten by hungry raging zombies. After all, it had been over day since they last ate, but now that conception was a thing of the past.

"Damn Rochelle…nice." Nick chuckled with admiration, and Rochelle's heart fluttered. "You found us an unusual yet satisfying buffet."

Rochelle laughed. She waited to hear herself reply, but for once didn't say a word. Instead she beamed, and found herself entertained to see Nick in a $3,000 suit holding a sniper rifle and bread. She had no idea why it amused her, or why she was thinking about it in the first place. Maybe it was to ignore the sly look in his eyes, which settled an usual wave of giddiness upon her.

"Nick…"

"What?"

Rochelle held his gaze, and suddenly the weight of the backpack appeared to increase in her hands. "Nothing." She looked away, her ears burned, glad that her dark pigmentation prevented anyone from seeing her blush.

The distant gunfire from behind broke through their senses, and they both turned to the noise. A zombie emerged from behind an overturned bus, and ultimately died after meeting with Coach's bullets. Ellis praised Coach on his accurate shot, and the two of scurried toward Rochelle and Nick.

"You found food?" Coach asked. Rochelle nodded, and handed them the backpack. He skimmed through the bag, and let out a hearty laugh. By the look in his eyes, Rochelle was anticipating tears. "This is great."

Nick shook his head. "You don't have to get teary Coach. We know how you are with food."

"Cut the shit, Nick."

Nick rolled his eyes, but glared at Ellis who walked up and threw his arm around Rochelle's shoulder.

"Way to go, Ro!" Ellis pulled her into a slight hug, and while at first it felt a bit awkward, she learned to enjoyed it. "Man, you should have seen the look on Coach's face when you-Oh! Lemme have one of them Twinkies!" Ellis practically threw himself at Coach who exposed the box of creamy sponge cakes. Rochelle stepped back from Ellis's unexpected leapt as Coach pulled the fattening snack away.

"Wait, son. We will eat somethin' quickly now, but we really need to move on. We can eat more when we find someplace to rest."

Rochelle agreed with Coach, and reclaimed her axe. "That's a good idea."

"Ya…it is," Ellis said. "I hate to say it, but I am gettin' tired of being here. It's nothin' but a…a highway of zombies and broken dreams!"

"Oh Ellis, not again…" Coach mumbled. He rubbed his temples as if relieving a headache.

Nick switched to his pistol with a strike of confusion. He cast Ellis a sideways glance. "Did you just say broken dreams?"

"Uh, ya." Ellis folded his arms. "Think of all of the people who didn't make it to Whisperin' Oaks. Imagine how they felt."

Rochelle chuckled and tried to put herself in his head-a difficult attempt, but not impossible to say the least. "You know, he does kind of have a point."

"Coach, do us a favor and give Ellis a Twinkie so he can shut up." Nick tossed the bread back into the bag, and continued down the highway toward the off-ramp in the distance.

Rochelle trailed after Nick, but before she was out of earshot heard Coach address to Ellis.

"Boy, sometimes I think you ain't right in the head."

Ellis shrugged off Coach's remark, and accepted the snack full of mirth.

* * *

They didn't have to travel far before coming to an abandoned motel crawling with zombies, and a bunch of zombie corpses. They all equally agreed to rest in one of the hotel rooms to gather their strength, eat, and relieve themselves before pressing forward to the spotlights of Whispering Oaks. Even though the motel would be a perfect place to sleep for the night-with abundant space and beds-Coach brought up the assumption that a helicopter might pass by the amusement park. He came up with a plan involving them to grab the copter's attention by using one of the rides, and Rochelle and Nick both agreed that it wasn't an opportunity to miss.

Rochelle walked along the second floor of the motel landing scanning the parking lot and empty pool. She leaned against the railing listening to Coach and Nick's short converse, emitting from the room behind her. After they killed the zombies, the vicinity drowned in an eerie silence. A silence that somewhat frightened her, but gave them the advantage of hearing any Special Infected lurking around corners, and hiding behind crevices.

She didn't know if her mind was playing tricks on her, but a faint youthful cry reached her ears-a sound that could have originated from anywhere. From their previous experience and growing knowledge of the infected around them, the Witch could be near by or miles away. But the distance between didn't halter the shiver rolling up Rochelle's spine. She balked from the railing, and retreated into Room 112.

"There's a Witch somewhere," Rochelle said as she walked passed the dresser with the broken TV.

"Yeah?" Coach huffed from his seat on the first bed rummaging through the backpack. "That bitch…"

Nick closed the door, and sat at round table in front of glassless window to keep watch. The Witch's crying was still heard-soft, but clear. "Sounds like my ex-wife."

__

Ex-wife?

Rochelle raised her eyebrows and took a seat on the edge of the second bed, furthest from the door. Nick didn't strike her as the marriage type. She could obviously tell he was some type of "ladies man," chasing girls like a dog chases their tail or vice versa, but commitment? She couldn't see it happening, but remembered what her parents taught her.

__

Never judge a book by its cover.

A little bit of hope sparked within her that she was wrong-a spark ignited by its own flame.

"You hungry, Ro?" Coach asked.

Rochelle set her weapons on the ground relieving herself of the extra weight. She rubbed her hands across the bed comforter, enjoying the feel of the soft cool fabric against her palms. "Yeah."

Coach passed her the bag after grabbing some food for himself and Nick. Rochelle took the last bottled water, and settled with an apple to give her strength, and a couple of pieces of Beef Jerkey. They ate under the overpowering silence until Ellis remerged from the bathroom drying his hands. He dried his wet clean face, and crumbled the paper towel in his fist.

"Man, that felt good." Ellis tossed the garbage into the wastebasket and adjusted his hat. He shuffled deeper into the room and stopped, exchanging a perplexed glance between the three of them. "Hey! Ya'll didn't leave me any drinks."

Nick continued to eat his Ruffle Chips. He shook his head and pointing to the backpack. "Not true, we left you the baby bottle."

"Not funny, Nick." Ellis flopped on the bed next to Rochelle, and pulled out another Twinkie.

Rochelle held back a laugh, but couldn't fight the overwhelming guilt. She grabbed her unopened water, and handed it to him. "We can share the water, Ellis. I don't mind."

"You sure?" Rochelle nodded. Ellis flashed one of his usual grins. "Thanks, Ro." He took a big swig, and passed it back to her. After he devoured a thick piece of Beef Jerkey, he leaned back and rested on the bed facing the ceiling. His amiable smile widened, and his eyes radiated with euphoria. "Man, imagine all of the shit we can do at Whispering Oaks with no one there. We can eat all of the food we want."

Coach stroked his knee, bowing his head. "Amen to that."

"We can cut in line, and keep going on the rides…."

"What about the zombies, Ellis?" Rochelle asked taking a sip of water.

Ellis waved her off. "Ah hell. They're gonna have to wait in line like normal. We called dibs first." Rochelle smiled. "We won't have a pay for a damn thing, and we'll definitely have to go on the Screaming Oak."

Rochelle pushed herself up on the bed, and crossed her legs sitting Indian Style next to Ellis's lolling figure. "What's that?"

"A rollercoaster."

Coach warmly chuckled, keeping his gaze at the floor, as if a past memory surfaced in his swarming thoughts. "My youngest daughter would never go on that ride. She's terrified of roller coasters."

Nick folded his arms commenting on Ellis's topic. "Ellis, you're acting like we're not even in the middle of extinction here. Do you really think that we're going to do all of this stuff when we get to…wherever we're going?"

"Geez Nick, you actin' like you have never been to an amusement park before."

"Only once."

"Once?" Ellis asked in disbelief. He briefly lifted his head in Nick's direction. "Wow, you must have been deprived as a child."

Nick's brow furrowed, his gaze unrelenting. "You have no idea what I've been through, kid."

Rochelle felt the tension growing in the air, and feared the an argument stirring to life between Nick and Ellis. She wanted to say something to divert the conversation elsewhere, but luckily Coach bet her to it. "Calm down Nick. Just ignore him."

Nick huffed, and turned his sights out the window. Ellis reclined back on the bed after Coach cast him a warning glance. Once the commotion drifted, another prolonged silence consumed the room. Nothing was heard except their breathing, and the mournful cry of the distant Witch. Of course, the quiet air didn't linger for long once Rochelle initiated a conversation. It developed into a one on one talk with Ellis that strayed from just a single topic. She barely remembered the different subjects they discussed, due to slight exhaustion, but she inhaled their laughter circulating the room and knew it didn't matter.

On occasions Coach would join in, but for the most part sated himself with the food. Nick remained by the window not saying a word. Rochelle would sneak him a glance every now and then, but every time his gaze would either be glued outside or at the floor. He made no effort to join their talk, unless directed to, and just sat there listening.

About an hour passed before Nick dropped his second unfinished apple to the floor, and immediately stood from the chair. He seemed aggravated, but underneath the frustrated exterior Rochelle noticed something else-far more diverse from the façade he expressed. Maybe it was the third round of laughter that got him in a mood, or maybe…

"What's wrong Nick?" Coach asked, as Nick gathered his supplies.

"We really need to get moving."

Coach frowned, but scratched his chin eventually agreeing. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Ellis sprang up from the bed. "Why the sudden rush?"

Nick swung open the door, but froze with his hand still gripped on the doorknob. "You never know, Ellis." He gave a low chuckle before departing. "At Whispering Oaks…there could be a line."

* * *

****

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Author's Notes:

Gah! This chapter was giving me a hard time, which is one reason why there was a two week gap between updates. I'm not too proud with this one, but I'm satisfied enough to submit it.

There is a significance to the stars reference at the beginning, trust me.

I want to thank everyone for your reviews and positive feedback so far, especially **FrostyFlakes**, because your reviews seriously helped me push forward with this chapter. Thank you so much. Also, thank you to the silent readers who are enjoying the story, and the many people who have this on their favorites. I didn't forget about you. You all might not know it, but you helped me get through my stressful week.

I had a lot of trouble uploading this document so if there is anything weird about the words or spacing just let me know and I will fix it.

-DJ Dork


	9. Step Up and Test Your Luck

**-Chapter 8-  
**Step Up and Test Your Luck

"Holy shit guys! IT'S KIDDIE LAND!" Ellis cried pointing ahead. His voice hit Rochelle's eardrum at full blast as he walked beside her, putting an extra skip in his step.

Coach chuckled, and used his arm to wipe the sheen of sweat off his forehead. "I swear, doesn't it sometimes feel like we're babysittin'?"

Nick sighed, and watched the rear for straggling zombies following their path through Whispering Oaks. "He's like a five year old with guns, and a comprehensive grasp of every swear word in the English language."

Rochelle halted her footing, and watched Ellis scurry ahead. He flew passed Coach, and moved toward the hub of Kiddie Land while twirling in every direction. His cheerful eyes panned each ride like an ecstatic child debating on which present to open on Christmas morning. Ellis's youthful glow radiated from his smile, his movements, and his laughter. Rochelle wondered many times how he could just maintain a positive vibe, and be so carefree about everything. The whole zombie apocalypse situation doesn't falter him at all, or even weight him down like it has done to her and the others. Even Coach pointed out before that this new reality possibly doesn't register in Ellis's mind, but while it gave her a quick chuckle, she didn't believe it to be true.

Still, Rochelle grew envious.

"I wish I could be that happy…" she mumbled, but bit her lip thinking. "-Oh what the heck." She raised her hands in the air, despite the weight of the axe, and imagined cheering for the Cleveland Cavaliers. "WOO! KIDDY LAND!"

It felt awkward at first, especially with Coach and Nick now staring at her, but the jovial and innocent shout awakened her senses, and relieved her previously dismal and blearily state. Whether she was delusional or walking a thin line of insanity…it didn't matter, because for the first time, in a long time, she felt rejuvenated.

"Are Ellis's immature antics that contagious?" Nick asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Nope, but I think it helps. I feel like getting on a ride now."

"I sure as hell wouldn't mind riding the Lil Peanut Rockets one more time," Coach said, catching on.

"Or the Screaming Oak," Rochelle added. "Ellis said that one is fun."

Nick dropped his hand to his side without a word. He switched glances between Coach and Rochelle, listening to their talk.

"But first," Coach said lifting a finger. "We find a corndog stand."

"And some fried dough too?" Rochelle grinned.

Coach laughed holding his stomach. He turned his sights to Ellis standing by the giant tree in front of them. "F'sho. F'sho."

Rochelle, tired of Nick's absence, nudged him in the arm. "Come on, Nick. Join in."

Nick shook his head. "I'll pass on that."

"Why? Are you too old for amusement parks?" Rochelle asked continuing forward. She walked underneath the Kiddie Land banner, and advanced to the right.

Nick followed her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that your idea of fun is probably sitting around the casino making bets and chugging shots. Am I right?"

"There's nothing wrong with that."

Rochelle frowned, just the thought made her shudder. She personally had nothing against gambling, which required betting money in order to win money, but will never forget that her uncle succumbed to a difficult life after letting his gambling habits develop into an addiction.

"I don't see the fun in it."

"Have you ever been gambling before?"

Rochelle stopped to rest at two metal benches up against a stone wall. She took a seat, laying her axe across her lap, and briefly glanced at the used napkins and empty plastic cups scattered on the pavement. Rochelle had never been to Whispering Oaks before, and while it deems to be a nice and exciting place, she found her enjoyment lacking. Her feet laced with pain from their travels, and the bag of food was quickly dispersed of by the time they reached the main gates.

_Shit, out of all the amusement parks I've been to none of them have been this big. _

Nick joined her at the benches while Coach parted in the other direction toward Ellis. Ellis used his sniper rifle to shoot zombies in the distance-particularly the ones standing in line for the un-operated rides. When he stopped to reload, his amiable southern draw replaced the silence hanging in the air. He still pestered Coach about getting on a ride.

Rochelle couldn't resist a smile.

"Ro?"

Rochelle pulled her thoughts away from Ellis and focused on Nick. Her smile refused to wither, and her jittery unbridled emotions danced in the same rhythm as if she were still thinking about Ellis, but strange enough she wasn't. Her mind was on Nick.

_Why am I thinking about them like this? I need to stop while I have the chance. _

"I'm sorry. Um, only twice with a couple of my girlfriends. Each time I ended up leaving with less than what I started with."

"Twice?" Nick echoed. He stood in front of her keeping a distance. "How could you have only gone twice?"

"It is easier for people to walk away and never return when they aren't money hungry like others," she teased.

Nick's eyes grew, and he leaned back slightly. He looked around the area as if expecting to see some random gamblers standing beside him. "Are you referring to me?" He turned back to Rochelle pointing to his chest.

Rochelle chuckled softly, and rested her arms on her legs. "I'm not saying that you are."

"But your tone implies otherwise. Would you believe me if I said I'm not?"

"If you can tell me something you honestly love more than cold hard cash."

Nick raised an eyebrow. He folded his arms keeping his magnum in his left hand. He took his time, prolonging the silence, but replied sooner than Rochelle expected. "I could name a few things, but who doesn't love money?"

"Money doesn't buy happiness, Nick," Rochelle commented.

Nick furrowed his brow, and his calm expression twisted into a quick glower. His body tensed and he opened his mouth speaking through gritted teeth. "You know, my sister said the same thing to me the last time I talked to her. That was two years ago."

Rochelle didn't know what astonished her more; the fact that Nick revealed something else about himself, or the fact that what she said popped one of his nerves. She pressed her lips together turning away from his striking, and cold stare. A tight knot rose to her throat preventing her from swallowing.

"I'm sorry if that bothered you, but know you it's a true statement," Rochelle explained lowering her voice. Nick averted his gaze to Coach and Ellis, and Rochelle let out a breath, able to truly breathe. She changed the topic, hating to see him livid-especially at her. "I never believed that I had luck with anything, especially gambling." Nick's eyes trailed back to her. His glare softened. "I mean that's all it is right? Taking chances."

"I've been lucky more times than I can count on a number of occasions." Nick paused, and stroked his neck. "But you can be like Al, a bastard I know that still owes me money. He told me once that he carries around a lucky charm. He swore the damn thing has saved his life a couple of times."

"A lucky charm?" Rochelle folded her arms with a laugh, and lolled on the bench. "Like what? A rabbits foot?"

Nick shrugged, but gave a small chuckle. "How the hell should I know. That was his philosophy. I didn't believe any of that shit."

"Yo Nick! Ro!" Coach called waving his hand. "Are you guys ready to mosey or what?"

Rochelle rose to her feet, almost forgetting about Coach and Ellis waiting. "Yeah, we're coming."

She grabbed her axe, and began to follow Nick but something preventing her from moving forward. She froze, tightening her muscles, and waited to see if the strange feeling regenerated again. A vibration cracked beneath her, but ever so slightly that her companions failed to notice. She looked back at the garbage on the ground. The lightweight cups trembled across the pavement like a dangerous stampede charged closer to their location.

The familiar growing tremors whisked Rochelle back to her dream, and her heart sunk. Visions of Mrs. Harris lifeless body, and the massive beast reappeared in front of her eyes. Rochelle respired, and blinked the images to oblivion. She twirled on her heels to warn the others, but saw all three of them expressed signs of caution. Before Rochelle could find her voice Ellis beat her to it, and confirmed her intuition.

"Oh, shit! A Tank!"

As if on cue, the gigantic mutated zombie jumped out from hiding and hurtled down the hill from where they previously came. Rochelle's shaky grip clenched around her axe and she watched her fellow survivors attack the Tank with bullets. The Tank roared, beating its chest, and revealed no signs of stopping.

"Look out!" Rochelle cried in warning, trying to ignore her rapid heartbeat.

Coach and Ellis both dove to the sides, dodging the Tank's wide powerful swing. Nick hurried backwards, his body concealed behind the Lil Peanut Rockets, still firing off rounds to lure the beast away.

"Let's split up!" Coach shouted over the raging commotion.

In an instant, all of them bolted in different directions like an offensive side of a football team. Rochelle ran deeper toward the far side of Kiddie Land hoping to find some other weapon besides her axe. She searched the vicinity, passing a closed snow cone and cotton candy stand, struggling to keep up with her hustling feet. The clamor exploding behind her shattered any peace they once endured and rattled her brain, snapping into overtime. The Tank's threatening bellow pounded clearly in her ears despite the distance between them.

Rochelle spotted a cluster of tables ahead, and searched through winding up empty handed. A lone male zombie in the corner chased after her, and Rochelle decapitated the pale, white eyed undead with one swing. Ellis's voice rose over the constant gunfire, which gave her the impression that the Tank now pursued him. She inhaled a sharp breath, and moved behind a long ticket booth near the restrooms.

She pressed her body against the wall. A faint tremor, originating from the Tank pounding on the ground, knocked Rochelle to her knees. The Tank roared, and Ellis's screaming pierced the night air. A pang shot through Rochelle's body once his fading voice cut short, and Coach released a string of profanities before frantically calling Ellis's name.

"Ellis!" Rochelle shrieked, back on her feet, already fearing the worse.

Rochelle jumped from her hiding spot, but remained near the corner just in case. Her frantic wearisome eyes searched for the Tank. The hanging lights helped Rochelle see a glimmer of silhouettes-one the size of a human, and the other the size of a beast-moving in the foggy background on the opposite side of Kiddie Land. The obstruction of trees, tents, and rides prevented her from getting a clear view.

"Rochelle."

A hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, and Rochelle jumped startled. She tensed spinning with her axe raised. Her sights immediately recognized a stained and torn white suit, and Rochelle loosened her grip meeting with a pair of green eyes. "Nick?"

"Were you expecting the mascot Lil Peanut?" Nick asked, panting. "Here, take this." He held out an assault rifle, and thrust the weapon into her hands.

"Thanks." Rochelle said, accepting the gun. "Where's Ellis?"

"We need to help him and Coach." Nick reloaded his magnum.

"Okay." She tossed her axe aside and braced herself eying the distance. Even though they have encountered a Tank before, back at the mall, they didn't have to face it. Jimmy Gibbs Jr's car spared them the trouble. She turned up to Nick. "I'll go help them. Do you think you can step up and test your luck against the Tank for a bit?"

Nick frowned about to protest, but the Tank rushed into view by the Peanut Rocket ride-moving like a prowling lion. "Fine. Be careful."

Rochelle nodded and wasted no time. She tore from her spot, and sprinted across Kiddie Land, keeping the Tank in her peripheral view. When given the chance, she stopped to assail the giant with numerous shots, but sidestepped along with Coach and Ellis on her mind.

The Tank targeted her, as if aware of her motivates, and Rochelle ducked behind a lit tree. The zombie paused to tear a chunk of pavement from the ground giving her the time reload. Nick's consistent firing helped keep her somewhat sane, but she still fumbled with the magazine cursing at her shaky fingers.

Out the corner of her eye, Rochelle saw the Tank effortlessly toss the boulder in her direction. She leapt to the ground shielding her head from the anticipating attack. The tree, blocking the directed path, caused the boulder to shatter into smaller pieces. Rochelle flinched as the shards rained upon her-one larger fragment smashing into her thigh. Her leg throbbed in pain, but luckily an ache she could ignore. When the Tank's grunts and movements faded in the other direction, chasing after Nick, Rochelle stumbled to her feet and continued her search.

She didn't need to travel far before she spotted a figure, with a round belly and bald head, sprawled on the ground. He hoisted himself to a stance, and licked his lips spitting blood.

"Coach!" Rochelle raced to his aid. Her eyes scanned each visible small wound covering his body. "Are you okay?"

Coach winced, and exhaled a long forceful breath. He rubbed his knee, but gathered his shotgun with renewed vengeance. "I'm okay."

"Where's Ellis?" Rochelle struggled to control her building anxiety.

"The Tank hit him over there." Coach explained, pointing. He limped past her already on the move to assist Nick. "Go help him. Imma help Nick."

Rochelle nodded, and flew over to a small area of lined tents. Her heart raced, and her mouth went dry at the sight of a green tent partially collapsed and crumbled with a gaping hole on the side. Two zombies swayed in front of it, and Rochelle swiftly cocked her weapon and fired.

"Ellis!"

She hopped over the bleeding inert bodies, and ripped the hole further to view inside. The overflowing darkness caused her to flip on her flashlight, and the glow shined on Ellis's unresponsive body covered with pink and purple stuff animals. Rochelle panicked, and carefully kicked the plush elephants and bears aside. She knelt beside him, gun on the ground, and lifted the upper half of his body in her arms. His head flopped, but she supported his neck using her arm watching his chest rise and fall in steady intervals of breathing.

"Ellis…" Rochelle called, her voice quivered. "Sweetie get up!"

Rochelle stroked his warm cheek cringing at the fresh cut on his forehead, slightly concealed by his hat. His right wrist swelled, and his arms were marked with growing bruises. For the most part his exterior wounds were minimal, but Rochelle could imagine the excruciating pain beating underneath.

"Ellis, please wake up."

Rochelle shook him fighting back the tears brimming in her eyes. He remained unconscious, but thankfully still showed signs of life. It wasn't until now, waiting and praying for Ellis to respond, did she notice the firing around her ceased, and Kiddie Land fell into an ethereal silence.

"Ellis," Rochelle whispered. She craned her neck looking out at the vacant and quiet park stretching behind her. "Nick! Coach!"

"Rochelle?" Coach replied, his voice echoed in the distance.

"Come quick! Ellis is-" Rochelle bit her tongue returning to Ellis.

Her eyes widened, and hope billowed through every inch of her body. Ellis's fingers twitched, and a faint groan escaped from his parted lips. He shifted in her arms, and lifted his listless eyes, staring ahead at the crumbled ceiling.

"Ma?"

Rochelle shook her head. "It's me, Rochelle."

Ellis's eyes drifted to her, and their natural azure glow gradually returned. "Ro…"

Rochelle smiled, and wiped her eyes. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yah, that Tank-" He struggled to sit up, managing at first, but groaned wincing in pain.

Rochelle kept a careful hand on his shoulder. "Do you feel okay?"

Ellis shut his eyes. He carefully held his swollen wrist ignoring the blood seeping down the side of his face. "I ain't lyin'…this hurts," he muttered, furrowing his brow.

Shuffling footsteps drew near, and Rochelle reached for her gun. Coach and Nick's huffing sounded in her ears, and she released her grip letting her shoulders drop.

"How is he?" Coach asked, peeking through the new door Rochelle created.

"Okay…I guess, " Rochelle replied with a mirthless shrug.

Ellis opened his eyes, and cracked a tiny smile. "Did ya get the Tank, guys?"

"Yah, we got him." Coach nodded, but paused looking at the collection of stuff animals. "Looks like these prizes cushioned your fall, Ellis," he explained, finding a bit of humor in the discovery.

Ellis exhaled a weak laugh. His good hand tightened around an elephant's trunk. "I won't ever make fun of a stuff animal again."

Rochelle smiled, but her expression didn't last. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't slow her beating heart. The entire situation terrified her at how close they were to losing Ellis.

_Hell, all of us could have easily died. _She clarified, glancing at Coach and Nick. Their appearance and conditions were far from perfect.

Coach slid into the tent. "Do you think you can walk, son?"

Ellis waved him off with reassurance. "Yah, I should be fine."

Despite Ellis's confidence, Coach offered his hand. Rochelle stood and also helped as the two of them steadily lifted Ellis off the ground. Ellis smiled. He was on his feet for a good two seconds before he cringed, and he held his side buckling. Rochelle grabbed Ellis's shoulder, preventing them from toppling, and lowered him back onto the pool of stuff animals. Ellis respired through clenched teeth, and Rochelle caught Nick's frown and Coach's grimace.

"Well…piss!" Ellis blurted.

Coach shook his head and removed his med-kit-the last one they carried. "Hold still, let me heal yo ass."

Rochelle stepped out of the tent to give Coach more space. She moved away from them, and treaded a few steps forward trying to stay positive. She scoped the wall ahead with a painted safe house sign which pointed them in the right direction. A looming presence closed in behind her, and Rochelle tensed sensing Nick's eyes watching. She suppressed a sob, and peered over her shoulder. Her eyes met with Nick's before they fell to his new wound-a small gash underneath his ripped left sleeve.

"You okay?" Nick asked, softening his voice with concern.

Rochelle nodded, flashing him an assuring smile, before she turned back around to hide her escaping tears.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

"This used to be a funhouse, but now it's full of evil clowns!"

Does anyone else get the urge to sing "Funhouse," by Pink when playing this campaign? I hope I am not the only one. And yes, I understand it has nothing to do with an amusement park.

Ugh! Action scenes slow me down, but pack a great punch.

Let's thank the snow storm for dumping a foot of snow, cancelling classes, and allowing me to not only be stuck at home, but to give me the time to finish this chapter. Yay!

-DJ Dork


	10. Tunnel of Confusion

**-Chapter 9-  
**Tunnel of Confusion

Rochelle inhaled a deep breath, and massaged the back of her leg as she sat on the picnic table. As usual the pain pills helped relieve the continuous and forceful aches, but all too soon the magic wore off. Every once in a while a sharp throb would knock through to her senses, pounding in the same the rhythm as her heartbeat. The pain reminded her of how close she was to losing her life against the Tank, but luckily she, along with everyone else, survived in one piece.

Rochelle listened to movement shuffling behind her, but didn't reach for her gun. She knew the noise belonged to Coach, who searched the building for food. After making it to the next safe house, surprisingly in the tunnel of love, Coach decided upon himself to find nutrition and snacks. Rochelle volunteered to accompany him, and Nick and Ellis stayed behind to rest.

When Coach's footsteps faded into the background, a brief silence swallowed Rochelle whole. The area revealed no immediate danger, but that didn't prevent her from keeping a close eye out. While in the midst of an apocalyptic era, Whispering Oaks fell into a dead, abandoned wasteland. Although, based on Coach and Ellis's experiences the park used to be a thriving tourist attraction-one of the best in Georgia. It was during those times the carousel would be packed with ecstatic children, food stands would encounter lines of hungry customers, and couples would pucker up for the tunnel of love. The streets would be packed with people of all shapes and sizes, and the air would burst into a clamor of irritation and excitement.

Rochelle imagined being here during that time; a time once memorable and fun, but now lost and forgotten.

"Is your leg gonna be alright?" Coach asked, standing in the threshold behind her.

Rochelle shifted her body, and craned her neck in his direction. "Yeah." She paused when another quick spasm took control, and waited for the pain to subside. "It just feels like an annoying bee sting. The throbbing is always there."

"Usually, I'm the one who needs to rest," Coach explained with a shrug.

Rochelle kept her mouth closed as Coach slid by her. She eyed his bandages and watched his careful and steady gait. Rochelle knew the truth, but didn't bother to bring it up. He needed to rest as well, but their search wasn't going to end just yet. Coach's mind focused on food, and nothing else.

_We must focus on one need before we can satisfy the other. _

"Did you find anything?"

Coach frowned and shook his head. "Nope. Nothin' but empty shelves."

Rochelle sighed, and rose to her feet. "Do you want to keep looking, or should we head back?"

She already knew the answer, but had to ask.

"We'll search a lil longer," Coach said pressing on.

Rochelle nodded, but frowned. By the looks of it, their luck in finding food was similar to finding a man at a baby shower. Every food stand, and just about every building was sealed tight and closed. Amusement parks don't usually stay open in the fall, and why would they carry food during the winter instead of just restocking in the spring? Rochelle didn't understand why, of all times, she was being pessimistic. Maybe it was so they can return to the safe house and rest, or maybe it was because of who was there-waiting.

_Tunnel of Love? _Rochelle shook her head. _More like tunnel of confusion._

"You comin', Rochelle?" Coach's voice whirled her back to reality.

"Yeah, sorry." Rochelle grabbed her assault rifle, and followed after.

They searched the large brick building next door, but even from a glance knew nothing would help them. Five broken, and bare vending machines lined against the far wall, and round plastic tables were pilled in the corner. Rochelle stayed by the door watching Coach scope out the machines up close, even though it was a pointless attempt. Still, she admired him for not giving up.

Coach shined his flashlight along each machine, but none of them provided any snacks. With a heavy sigh he returned shaking his head, and they moved on.

"Coach, you ever think that some people knew all of this was going to happen ahead of time?" Rochelle asked, hoping to draw his mind away from them not having any luck.

"Sure did," Coach said, without hesitation.

"Really?" Rochelle asked as they traveled through the gates of the carousel. "Why do you say that?"

"The last time I saw my grandmother she asked me if I was still a prayin' man," Coach explained. He lowered his weapon, and let his hand slide across the fence. "I told her 'yes ma'am'. And you know what she told me to do? She told me to 'pray harder, because it ain't workin'."

Rochelle's eyes widened. "Do you really think she foresaw the flu?"

Coach shrugged. "I never asked her what she meant, but I believed she did. I think she had a small gift."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"A year ago."

Rochelle looked up at Coach, and saw a sparkle flash in his eyes. After losing everything to the infection what more did they have left? Besides the clothes on their backs, each other, and random supplies, they had nothing but memories. Birthdays. Childhood. Adolescent years. First kiss. First car. Graduation. Sex. These memories helped them move forward.

Rochelle paused at the Lil Peanut height marker, and lowered her gun. She rubbed her fingers across the dirty but readable sign, and reminisced back to their short encounter an hour ago, before they faced the rabid horde.

"_You gotta be this tall to ride, Ellis." Nick smirked and pointed to the indication with the barrel of his gun. "Sorry buddy, you'll be missed."_

"_Ha. Ha. Aren't you the comedian," Ellis shot back as he brought up the rear, with Rochelle at his side, due to his injuries. _

"_Knock it off, you two," Coach said walking up to the electrical box. "I'm hittin' the switch." _

Rochelle studied the sign a bit more, wanting to smile, but couldn't find the strength. The thoughts and images of Ellis remerged once more in her mind. She tried to fight it, but the past incident dominated. Her hands trembled at how close they were to losing Ellis, and seeing him lying unconscious in her arms. If he didn't make it….

Rochelle closed her eyes. She wasn't going to even think about it.

"You need to stop worryin' about him, little sis."

"I am."

Coach looked over his shoulder and flashed her a knowing glance. "No, I can tell that boy has crossed your mind a couple of times."

She didn't try to hide it anymore, and rubbed her temples. "Is it that obvious?"

"I can just tell. I have that instinct," Coach said. "You don't need to worry. Ellis is alive and restin'."

"I know…" Rochelle murmured.

Coach smiled, and went ahead to search the concession stand. A vacant door off to the left caught Rochelle's attention, and she hurried in that direction believing the search would speed up if they split momentarily. She flipped her flashlight, and scanned the dark room with gun in hand. Much like any other building around Whispering Oaks, the room was filled with endless stacked crates and boxes.

Rochelle stepped deeper into the room listening for any movements or unpleasant sounds. She lowered her guard, after determining the area to be zombie free, and checked the adjacent white door.

_Damn, it's locked. _

Rochelle fumbled with the knob and frowned turning to leave, but a familiar device pulled her to the far table against the wall. She picked up a pipe bomb and smiled.

"Hey Ro." Coach's voice filled the air. His heavy footsteps trailed in room behind her, and another source of light panned across the gloomy building. "I've been thinking. You have grown pretty fond of Ellis," he mused, flashing his light along the boxes.

Rochelle's heart raced. The pipe bomb nearly slipped from her grasp. "What?" She twirled squinting against the glare of the vibrant bulb. "It's not like that. Besides, you said so yourself we have to stick together if we want to make it out alive."

Coach nodded and lowered his arm. The light streaked across the dirty floor, shining on her feet. "True."

Rochelle waited for her eyes to adjust, and she could see Coach's figure standing by the entrance. "Ellis worries me sometimes. You know how he can be."

"What about Nick?" Coach asked. When Rochelle failed to respond right away, he chuckled and slipped from the building.

Rochelle eyed the entrance and waited for Coach to reappear. She rubbed her eyes in frustration, mainly at herself, and hurried after him. "What about Nick?" she asked, surprised to see Coach standing right outside. He gave a shrug, and continued to walk as if he never heard her question. Rochelle pestered him more. "Why are you bringing him up?"

"Just remember, little sis, our main priority is getting to New Orleans alive."

"I know that," Rochelle retorted walking beside him. She couldn't hold back the next question that lifted from her throat and escaped into the air on its own. "Come on, do you think I am attracted to them or something?" She gave an anxious laugh, hoping it sounded more as a joke.

Coach laughed with her. "I never said that," he said, without slowing his gait.

Rochelle froze as if the cement crawled up her legs and halted her where she stood. Her muscle tensed, and a knot jumped to her throat. "You're right…" she whispered.

She bit her lip and narrowed her gaze.

_But I did. _

* * *

"How long do ya think it's gonna take them?" Ellis asked, breaking the prolonging silence that engulfed him and Nick.

Nick barely glanced in Ellis's direction. He sat on the adjacent wall popping the magazine in and out of his magnum. A shotgun rested at his side, up against the wall, and an opened med-kit sprawled across the ground by his feet.

"They've been gone for like ten minutes. Shit, twenty tops," Ellis continued.

"I don't know," Nick finally replied. "They need to hurry though. It's a little awkward waiting in the tunnel of love with someone who wanted to ride a kiddie land attraction."

"That's not cool. You think I'm enjoying myself?" Ellis retorted with a frown. "We're stuck sittin' here while they're havin' all the fun. They're probably shootin' zombies, or makin' some cotton candy."

Ellis grinned, his mouth watered at the thought. It was a childhood obsession he refused to let die.

"No, you're stuck," Nick corrected pointing at Ellis. "I'm not the one who almost died from a Tank."

"I told y'all I'm fine." Ellis said, waving him off with his good hand.

He shifted from his spot on the ground to prove his strength, but fell against the wall cringing from the quick billow of pain. Despite his words of reassurance, his body spoke differently, and Nick smirked going back to his nonchalant activity. Ellis exhaled a deep breath, and rested his sprained wrist on his lap.

He knew he should be grateful his wounds weren't fatal or serious to begin with. Their face off with the Tank was nothing but a blur in his mind. He barely remembered being smacked by the beast or crashing into the tent. For once he wasn't upset by this, but his wounds refrained him from doing anything. Any sudden movements or long walks would leave him winded, and on the edge of vertigo. Even the bandages caused some kind of discomfort. He felt like a half-wrapped mummy.

Ellis grabbed the bottle of pain pills by his sniper rifle and tossed two in his mouth. While waiting for the medicine to kick in, he gazed around the room. The walls of the tunnel of love were embellished in a deep blue. Waves, intimating the river, were painted around the trim, and a bunch of small stars covered the ceiling and upper walls. Hanging red lights helped add the romantic and relaxing feel to the already perfect ambiance.

"I ever tell you about the time my buddy Keith drowned in the tunnel of love?" Ellis asked dropping his gaze to Nick. Nick groaned and rubbed his eyes, but Ellis continued as the memory resurfaced. "You wouldn't think it could happen cause the water's so shallow, but that's how it gets you man. _Overconfidence_**.** Keith was with his lady at the time, and he was yellin' for her to save him, but she didn't want to get wet-"

"-Ellis, is now the best time?" Nick interrupted.

"Okay…"

Ellis tapped his leg hoping to pass the time. He had many more stories to tell, but they didn't do any good running through his thoughts. Half of the time he was accompanying Keith, and knew the entire outcome. The best part about his stories were telling other people and seeing their expressions, but he wouldn't progress anywhere with Nick. At least Coach showed some kind of interest, especially Rochelle.

_Speaking of which…where the hell are they?_

Ellis turned to the safe house door, and touched the bandage on his forehead, just under the brim of his hat. Besides the constant clicking of Nick's magnum, the intense silence beyond the red door was unbearable and cause uncertainty. Coach and Rochelle have been gone for a while searching for food. Any thing could have happened to them; one could easily get pounced by a Hunter, or the other trapped by a Smoker.

Ellis wasn't use to the silence, or sitting around waiting. He wished for some kind of noise. He didn't even care if it was a zombie, it would give him something shoot. Although, he did prefer to hear Coach and Rochelle's footsteps running toward them.

As Ellis leaned his head against the wall, ready to succumb to sleep, he heard a faint cry just outside the safe house door. The sound answered his pleas, but as the noise grew it became clear that the zombie capable of such cries was not one to mess with.

_Holy shit. That's not the kind of noise I wanted. _

"Nick, you hear that?"

Nick nodded. His eyes trailed to the door. "That Witch is going to annoy the hell out of me."

Ellis struggled to his feet. With the pain pills in his system the task proved to be successful. He grabbed his sniper rifle, and rushed to the door. "We have to do somethin'."

Nick jumped to his feet. "Ellis, what the hell are you doing?"

"What if Coach and Ro are comin' back?" Ellis asked. His heart raced at the sight of the Witch slowly treading in front of the heart shaped entrance. Her long bloodied claws concealed her face, but sobbing clearly escaped into the air. "We need to kill her."

"Are you crazy?" Nick crossed his arms. Ellis ignored him and cocked his weapon. "You really are crazy."

"Not really." Ellis tossed Nick a smile, and peered through the scope. He aimed carefully at the Witch's head. "I'm just worried about Coach and Ro. We have this metal door between us. What do they have?"

Nick refused to protest anymore, but his countenance expressed disapproval. His sharp eyes, mixed in warning and anxiety, switched glances between the Witch and Ellis. He took a step back, tensing his muscles and pursing his lips.

Ellis waited until the Witch stopped pacing. He had the perfect opportunity, but his shaking wrist threw off his aim. The bullet grazed the Witch's head, and her crying immediately developed into piercing screams. She threw her arms out, and charged for the door leaping over the wooden railing.

"Shit!" Nick cursed jumping away.

In an instant the Witch assaulted the door, and Ellis balked, falling to the ground on his back. Her shrieks were loud, and painful-ringing at the very core of his eardrum. Ellis groaned, biting back his own scream, as a sear of pain raced through his body.

"Shoot the bitch, Ellis!" Nick yelled over the burst of clamor as he fired his magnum.

Ellis pushed back the throbbing aches, and lifted his sniper rifle taking a quick aim. He waited until he saw her glowing murderous eyes before pulling the trigger. The sniper rifle echoed, and the Witch released one last drawn out scream before toppling to the ground with a bullet between her eyes.

In the midst of the calm aftermath, Ellis collapsed on his back. He stared at the ceiling, catching his breath, waiting for the pain and his heartbeat to subside. Nick peeked through the metal bars looking down at the lifeless zombie. He sighed and glanced over his shoulder at Ellis, slightly impressed.

"Nice shot."

"Thanks," Ellis said, between breaths.

Nick outstretched his hand, and helped Ellis to his feet.

"Ellis! Nick!"

Ellis lifted his to the door. "Ro?"

"Get in quick." Nick opened the door as Coach and Rochelle pilled into the room with guns raised.

Coach cast the Witch a swift glance, and curled his face in disgust. He moved away from the door, and lowered his gun dropping the bile jars, and Molotov's he collected. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah, we are now," Nick replied slamming the door closed.

"How about you?" Ellis asked, joining Rochelle by the wall who carried four packed plastic bags.

"We're fine," Rochelle said kneeling. She handed him one of the bags. "Guess what we found."

"Food I hope." Ellis accepted the bag, and looked inside. There were an assortment of amusement park treats, but one particular snack lifted his spirits. "Oh shit! Cotton Candy!"

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

First off, I know Witches don't wander at night. I'm not straying from the game, trust me. For the sake of this story, this Witch is going to wander.

Due to the fact that I love all of the L4D2 characters I am giving the gentlemen some spotlight as well. Ellis, Nick and Coach will have one section written from their view, and Ellis is up first. Their POV's do serve as an importance to the story, so they aren't just extras because I feel sorry for them. I did plan it this way.

Also, I'm sorry if the love triangle is taking forever to actually get some where. Again, I'm trying to keep this realistic. Feelings form over time and not instantly. From here on it will be picking up. I promise.

Thank you for the reviews!

-DJ Dork


	11. Who's Ready For An Encore?

**-Chapter 10-  
**Who's Ready For An Encore?

_Girl, you should of stayed at home..._

Rochelle pressed her back against the wall for support. She tried to remain standing, but her legs buckled and she slid to the ground, resting beneath the endless graffiti of CEDA and the Midnight Riders. The Magnum in her hands almost slipped from her grasp, but she tightened her hold and fought to keep her eyes open. Rochelle could no longer refuse the temptation of sleep; exhaustion clung to her like the putrid odor of Boomer Bile. She couldn't remember the last time she received a well rested nap, but her body understood that the important need was long overdue.

Rochelle closed her eyes thinking of home and being with her family and friends. She thought of her bed, and sleeping with her heavy comforter and five pillows. She thought these images would help put her mind at ease, but they only brought a wave of homesickness. Rochelle frowned and rubbed her temples. She had never been homesick before, but this time things were different. What frightened her most was the assumption of being alone-lost from those who mattered-but Rochelle looked around the safe room, and everything changed.

_I'm not alone. Not really._

"Okay here is the plan," Coach explained, walking by her. He reloaded his weapon, and grabbed a pipe bomb from the metal cabinet. "Y'all know the Midnight Riders? They're gonna save us."

"How?" Nick asked folding his arms. He stood by the red door which led deeper into Whispering Oaks Stadium.

"Because nobody, and I mean NOBODY, has a bigger light show than the Midnight Riders," Coach said gravely, switching glances between all of them.

"And that will signal the chopper pilot!" Ellis exclaimed from his seat on the desk. He slapped his knee, and hopped to his feet with a laugh. "Man, this is going to be like the _fourth _time the Midnight Riders saved my life."

Rochelle's eyes widened. "The fourth time, Ellis?"

Ellis faced her and nodded. "Hell ya! The first time is when Dave and I had gone campin'. We ended up gettin' lost, but Dave-"

"-Ellis, if you don't get moving there isn't going to be a fourth time," Nick warned interrupting. He removed the bar with a loud clank, and opened the door just as three zombies emerged from the dark and charged toward them.

Rochelle sighed and closed her eyes once more, ignoring the rattling gunfire from Nick and Coach's weapons. They had just entered the safe room ten minutes ago, and were already moving on. As much as she wanted to rest, Rochelle didn't want to slow them down. She was just as eager to signal the chopper, but unlike Ellis, her excitement was masked underneath the layer of fatigue. She wasn't the only one tired though, all of them could use a good rest.

"Let's go you two," Coach said once the firing subsided. He followed Nick out of the room.

"You ready to go, Rochelle?" Ellis asked stepping forward.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," Rochelle explained opening her eyes. She lifted her chin, looking up at Ellis towering in front of her. "This has to be our shortest rest in a safe room yet."

"True, but I think that's because they're ready to put the plan into action. Who's to blame them? We get to set up to rock, and then fight zombies. This is the best day of my life!"

Rochelle chuckled, surprised to see she had the strength to laugh, or even smile. Ellis just had that effect; she figured it out now. He possibly doesn't know it, but he has a way of lifting her spirits. Whenever she feels like giving up, Ellis brings out the light in her, even when she failed to believe it's there.

"Well, I'm happy for you sweetie."

Ellis held her gaze. "It's not going to be the best unless all of us are rockin' and shootin' together."

"Of course," Rochelle said smiling. "We're all part of this rocking killer band."

Ellis titled his head, and chuckled. "Now that's a good one." He outstretched his hand, softening his voice. "C'mon Rochelle, let's go."

Rochelle accepted his offer, and rose to her feet with his help. Her body swayed from a slight crash of dizziness, but remained standing, still holding on to Ellis's hand. Even after she felt better, she realized neither of them had let go. Rochelle narrowed her eyes to their locked hands. She swallowed hard before lifting her gaze and meeting his warm smile. She couldn't quite explain why, but a sudden urge developed inside of her.

The urge to just fall into his arms.

_I'm not going to let it win. It's nothing but me wanting comfort because of everything going on._

"Rochelle! Ellis!" Nick's voice broke through the tense silence lingering in the safe room. "Are we going to have to come back and carry you guys or what?"

Rochelle reacted to Nick's voice and pulled her hand away. She hoped her actions didn't seem rude, but Ellis grabbed his sniper rifle with a casual grin.

"You ready?" he asked running to the doorway littered with corpses.

Rochelle nodded without a word, and followed him out of the room. With Coach and Nick leading the way all of the zombies were taken care of. Ellis and Rochelle didn't have to worry much, but they never lowered their guard. Rochelle was actually content Ellis stayed back with her. As they walked between the plastic picnic tables and closed concession stands, she found her thoughts drifting in and out.

Her conversation with Coach left a permanent mark in her mind, and her unusual moment with Ellis reflected on that.

_Am I growing an attachment to them? _She couldn't help but ask.

It took her a few moments before another thought came to mind, but before she could ponder any further, a Smoker grabbed Coach and reeled him from the group. His shouting pulled Rochelle back to reality as they raced to help him. Nick ran ahead firing, but with the darkness in the background had no luck hitting the special infected. Instead, he stomped on the tongue causing the Smoker to release.

"You okay Coach?" Ellis asked, running to the older man's aid.

Rochelle spotted a movement in the distance, and squinted seeing a tall inhuman looking creature. She raised her arms, and pulled the trigger. She fired three rounds until a puff of green smoke ruptured in the air, and the Smoker released it's final rasping cry.

"I'm fine," Coach said catching his breath. He stood to his feet, and reclaimed his weapon.

Rochelle lowered her arm, and took a deep breath.

"Nice shot," Nick said, placing his hand on her shoulder as he passed by.

"Thanks." Rochelle smiled and they moved on as Ellis took the lead, and Coach trailed behind.

After everything subsided, her initial thought returned. What kind of an attachment was developing? She barely knew Ellis, and knew even less about Nick. The whole zombie outbreak situation messed up their entire lives, and maybe even messed her logic and feelings.

The attachment could be for security. She hasn't seen her family, or been with anyone close for a while. Then again, it could be just because they were all close to her age, and she could relate to them on some level. Although she would never disregard Coach-she turned to him like a father. A bunch of possibilities popped into her head. It could be because of their conversations, their attractive looks…Ellis's smile and Nick's humor…

Rochelle shook her head. _There I go again…wandering to areas that shouldn't matter. I really need to just stop._

Luckily for her they rounded the corner, and the stadium popped into view. Rochelle stopped in her tracks. Her mouth hung agape as her eyes panned over the sight in front of them. All thoughts regarding her twisted emotions faded.

"Wow," Rochelle muttered, taking a step forward.

Ellis continued on, and picked up his pace as he neared the stage. Even Coach brushed by her without the slightest hinder in his gait. The two of them were from Georgia and have been to Whispering Oaks Stadium before, but everything was new to Rochelle. The prepared stage, the endless rafters, the large speakers, the size…all of this amazed her, and at the same time brought slight anxiousness. The music would most likely not only signal the helicopter, but also a horde.

Nick stopped beside her and studied the scene. "Great," he murmured folding his arms. "As if having to turn to the Midnight Riders wasn't enough. Just look at the stadium we get to hold up at."

"It's not too bad," Rochelle commented looking up at the sky. "It's the perfect place to signal help."

Nick nodded in agreement. "This better freaking work," he whispered to Rochelle before treading deeper into the stadium. "Hey Coach, if you can get us out of here alive, I will deep fry you an entire god damn cow."

Rochelle chuckled at Nick's remark, and rolled her eyes.

Coach shook his head as he and Ellis walked onto the stage. "Nick, do us a favor and turn on the stage lights, will ya?"

Nick shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

Rochelle followed Nick up the stairs the since Coach and Ellis both explored the stage. Even though there were no zombies present so far, she didn't want to take the chance of Nick getting in trouble with nobody close enough to help him. With a stadium this big, they needed to stay together, or at least in pairs.

Rochelle sighed in relief once they safely made it to the nose bleed section. She glanced at the separate posters of each Midnight Rider member before turning around and looking down at high view of the stage.

_We're gonna need to stay by the stage. It will be rather difficult running from zombies on these steep stairs._

"You see all of these buttons?" Nick asked walking up to the control panel. He raised his voice in irritation. "What the hell? Which one is it?"

Rochelle joined him, and lightly brushed her fingers across the rows of buttons and switches. "I don't know, but just try not alert a horde, okay?"

Nick opened his mouth, about to speak, but Ellis's voice blared through the speakers-singing off key. Rochelle craned her neck to the stage looking down at Ellis in front of the microphone.

"Every lady's crazy when her daddy's not around…"

Nick heaved a sigh, and turned back to the buttons. "Sweetheart, I'm not the one you need to be talking to."

Rochelle leaned against the railing, biting back a grin. "He's just enjoying himself."

Ellis bobbed his head, and grabbed the microphone singing some more lyrics. "Gotta reach for the top, stay on the mountain..."

Nick flipped a couple of useless switches until, one by one, the overhead lights turned on and brightened the stage.

"As long as Coach doesn't start dancing, we'll be fine," Nick explained.

Rochelle shook her head, and advanced back down the steps. "Come on suit."

They rejoined Coach and Ellis on stage. After careful minutes of preparation, they were ready to signal the chopper. Coach was a little upset to find that the Midnight Riders lip-synced. He discovered their tape labeled finale, but Ellis on the other hand could care less, and was ready to rock. All of them agreed to stay on stage, close to the giant Midnight Riders poster, so the horde couldn't corner them from all sides. Once Coach started the music, they braced themselves for what might follow.

Rochelle kept her back against the wall with her fingers clenched on her AK-47. She faced the right side of the stage with Coach at her side, while Nick and Ellis watched their backs. Rochelle could clearly see why Ellis listened to the band, but couldn't grasp how someone such as Coach found enjoyment in them. She personally had no taste for this kind of music, but a new serge of energy pulsed through her veins from the deviating rhythm. The powerful beats shook the stage beneath them, and the screaming lyrics vibrated against her ears, drowning every other possible sound-including her thoughts.

Rochelle barely saw the small wave of zombies sprinting up the ramp toward them, until Coach's shotgun echoed in the air. She blinked, and returned to her senses.

That's when all hell broke loose.

The zombies charged toward the stage coming from every direction, much like their experience at the Screaming Oak coaster. This was to be expected of course. The overpowering song could be heard from anywhere in Whispering Oaks. Hell at this point, anywhere in Georgia. That was the key though, to attract the helicopter, but life would be a lot easier without the raging undead reacting every single sound or noise.

At first, their strategy worked well. The bodies and limbs continued to the pile at their feet. None of them suffered any dangerous wounds, expect a Charger almost knocked Ellis to the ground. A spray of unexpected Spitter goo split them up momentarily, which the horde took their advantage. Rochelle tried to stay near Coach, but the bodies circled her-trapping her like prey. They clawed and scratched at her skin, igniting various painful stings throughout her body, but she gritted her teeth and never stopped firing. When it was time to reload, Rochelle butted the zombies with the end of her gun. She pushed them away, and ran in the opposite direction to give herself time to change magazines.

Rochelle hid behind a cart, desperate to keep her back concealed. The horde surrounded her, and she felt herself submerging underneath the sea of undead. There were so many, but she didn't stop-she couldn't stop. She fired, kicked, smacked, punched, and screamed. She did anything she could do to stay alive. Blood and gore sprayed across her clothes, her hair, the crate behind her, and the ground. As the number of thrashing zombies dwindled, she was able to breathe.

Then she heard something that gave her the boost she craved.

"The helicopter is here! Let's move!"

Rochelle couldn't recognize who shouted those anticipated words, but she heard correctly, and at the right time. Her AK-47 had just ran out of bullets, and all she had left was her Magnum, and Boomer Bile. She hurtled her gun forward, and knocked down the closest zombie shrieking in her ear. She grabbed her Magnum, and killed the two zombies blocking her path to freedom. When everything cleared, Rochelle jumped out from behind the cart, and dashed toward the opposite end of the stadium.

_The helicopter! _

She spotted the others in the distance blending within the tangled mess, but when Nick threw a pipe bomb the area briefly cleared. Rochelle's heart skipped a beat already thanking God for the successful plan, but she was celebrating a little too early. A long, thick tongue constricted her waist from behind, and before she could scream, wrapped around her throat. The Smoker reeled her back, away from safety, and Rochelle gagged fighting for her life.

Her body dragged across the cement, and with every tug the Smoker tightened his hold. Rochelle grabbed the tongue and tried to pry herself free, but to no avail. Her chest burned, and her lungs screamed for the sensation of inhaling a full breath. Her mouth could barely call Nick's name-his white jacket was all she could see-but soon her eyes brimmed with tears and her vision grew hazy.

_I'm going to die! Oh shit, I'm going to die! _

"Rochelle!"

The rasping noise of the Smoker grew in her ears, but Rochelle collided into a black crate. The object prevented her from fully reaching the Smoker, but either way the obstacle suffocated her more. Between her streaming tears, Rochelle could see Nick running toward her. He was too busy focusing on her, that he failed to pay attention to the Tank hurtled after him. Rochelle didn't know where Coach and Ellis were, but prayed they made it to the helicopter.

Rochelle was on the brink of defeat, feeling all of her energy vanish, when the Smoker released his hold. Due to the short break between songs, she heard the high pitch gunfire responsible for killing the special infected. The bullet sounded from a sniper rifle, and Ellis was the only one who carried that weapon.

Rochelle collapsed on her back, and filled her lungs with air. Her body trembled, but she used the rest of her strength to jump back to her feet. She lifted her head just in time to see Nick throw himself to the ground, and dodge a large piece of concrete. The Tank roared, pounding his chest, and inched closer.

"Nick!" Rochelle shouted, grabbing her Magnum and running to his aid.

She took out her Boomer Bile and chucked it in the Tank's direction. The bottle exploded upon impact drenched the oversized beast in a shower of green vomit. The odor drew a horde after him, slowing his pace.

"Come on, Nick get up," Rochelle pleaded, grabbing his arm and helping him to his feet.

"Jesus Christ," Nick muttered between breaths, rubbing the blood from his forehead.

"Are you okay?" Rochelle asked. She cast glances at the Tank who continued to fight off the zombies.

"Not until we get to the chopper," Nick replied quickly. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her along.

With Coach and Ellis firing at the straggling zombies, Rochelle and Nick had little trouble reaching the helicopter. She had to admit, she was astonished she even made it to the stairs. Her body no longer welded any strength, and but she still had hope. She never let go of Nick's calloused hand and he tightened his grip, making sure of that.

Once they made it onto the helicopter Coach closed the sliding door, and immediately the pilot took flight. Rochelle wiped her forehead, cleaning off the sweat and spray of blood. She climbed into the seat next to Nick, but wanted nothing more than to lay on the ground and fall asleep.

"Oh man! That had to best concert ever!" Ellis said between laughter. "I'm up for another round. Who's ready for an encore?"

"Not me son," Coach said, taking a deep breath. He shook his head. "Not anytime soon."

"Or in this lifetime," Nick added surly, gripping tighter to his chair.

"You okay, Ro?" Ellis asked, lowering his voice in concern.

Rochelle looked up at him, noticing the sniper rifle across his lap. "Yeah, I'm still breathing. Thank you Ellis. You're a real life savor."

Ellis grinned, but before he could speak Coach patted his back, a little harder than necessary. "That was some good shootin', Ellis. You sure know how to handle one of those sniper rifles."

"Ha, I learned how to shoot a gun before I even learned how to walk," Ellis explained pointing to himself with his thumb.

While the two of them engaged in conversation about guns, Rochelle turned to Nick. He sat quietly next to her, and stared absentmindedly at the floor. Rochelle gently placed her hand on his leg, and Nick turned his head, reacting to her touch. "Thank you Nick. For coming back for me."

Nick shrugged and waved her off. "It's was nothing. Don't mention it."

"You didn't have to, but you risked your life for me," Rochelle whispered, pulling her hand away. She gave a weak chuckle. "You don't strike me as the type who would do that either."

"I know." Nick averted his gaze in the other direction. He lowered his voice, but remained loud enough for her to hear. "It all depends on the person."

Rochelle was taken back by his comment and bit her lip in thought.

"You know guys, it's like I said before," Coach said speaking to them with glorification. "We all have to stick together if we want to get out of here alive."

"You were right Coach, and we did make it," Rochelle commented.

Ellis hooted, and removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair. "New Orleans, here we come!"

Rochelle smiled fixing her eyes on Ellis, and he returned her gaze with a wink.

Coach closed his eyes with a fit of mirth, and rubbed his stomach. "Amen to that Ellis. Amen to that."

End of Part II

* * *

**Author's Notes: **

I blame life for the reason why this update took so long. I really wanted to get this up, but I was also having trouble with the chapter. Potential wise, I don't think it really stands up to the others, but I hope that it's enough to make up for the long wait.

Thank you all for the reviews. Even if the updates take forever, I will not abandoned this story. It will get this finished.

I don't have much to say this time around. Yes, Part II ended up being shorter than Part I. That is how it ended up being outlined. I'm sorry if you all wanted the Dark Carnival events longer.

-DJ Dork


	12. Badass Zombie Killing Machine

Part III 

**-Chapter 11-  
**Badass Zombie Killing Machine

"So what's your answer?"

Rochelle rubbed her eyes, letting them come into focus. The first thing she saw was the black dashboard, sleek and clean like always. The air wafted in a spicy masculine scent, an aroma emitting from the air freshener dangling around the rearview mirror. The door windows were tinted, and the recently installed stereo system shined like a street of neon lights. Although the speakers produced no sound, which gave Rochelle the impression that, for once, the music was turned off.

"Rochelle, what's your answer?" the same voice asked.

Rochelle tugged at the seatbelt across her chest. She didn't even need to cast a fleeting glance at the driver to know who's car she was in. She could tell by the familiar interior and the deep voice that once caused her heart to flutter.

"My answer?" Rochelle asked, whispering. She didn't know what came over her, but her voice spoke on its own, continuing with the conversation she remembered too well.

"Have you been listening?" Jacob asked, lolling in his seat. "I'm moving to Florida to get out of this hell hold we call home. I want you to come with me."

Rochelle finally twisted her neck to look in Jacob's direction. He wore baggy dark jeans and his favorite gray hooded sweatshirt, the same outfit he wore the last time she saw him. He wore sunglasses, concealing his dark eyes, but a stretch of nihility engulfed the car.

"But my job…"

"Your job is a piece of shit," Jacob retorted, waving his hand. "You have been there for five years, and they still haven't given you a promotion."

"I'm this close," Rochelle replied, indicating with her fingers.

Jacob faced her, but she couldn't tell if he was staring directly at her or not. She could faintly see her reflection on his lens, plain and dull, but Rochelle knew on that actual night an abundance of emotion ran through her veins.

A frenzy of static burst through the speakers, soft at first but then rapidly growing. The fuzzy connection turned into incoherent words. The slurred and broken voices then formed into clear sentences. Rochelle titled her head as the shouting reached her ears and the frantic voices sent a deep shiver down her spine.

"_Holy shit, what the hell is goin' on?"_

"_The helicopter! Why are we descending?"_

"_Coach get up! Hurry!"_

"Yeah? I believe you said the same thing a year ago, hon." Jacob said, completely obvious to the screams. He rubbed his shaven head. "I don't know why you stick with that job. You could find a better one in Florida. We will be right near the beach, and five miles from the happiest place where your dreams come true."

Jacob chuckled, always laughing at his own jokes, and opened the driver's door.

"Where are you going?" Rochelle asked.

"To get some gas. I'm going to let you think about it." Jacob threw his hood over his head before stepping outside and slamming the door behind him.

Rochelle sat alone in his car with the mysterious shouts blaring through the speakers. She reached forward and fumbled with the knobs on the system, desperately wanting to shut off the noise, but failing to do so. Rochelle bit her lip, and jerked back in her seat at the loud, enraged growl.

"_Jesus Christ! The pilot…is…"_

"_Nick, what the hell are you doin'?"_

Rochelle flinched at the sound of gunfire.

"_Everyone hold on to something."_

The radio exploded in a litany of screaming, praying, and cursing. The clamor blended together going in and out through the wave of static, but in the midst of the noise Rochelle recognized her own voice in the speakers. A few seconds later, everything fell into an eerie silence and her heart lurched to her throat.

Rochelle whimpered, and closed her eyes respiring quick breaths. Something warm and thick roll down her forearm, and she lowered her head. Her eyes widened as she lifted her arm, gaping at the blood flowing from a long slash below her wrist. Rochelle clenched her fingers pushing back the queasy drop in her stomach.

She cast a glance at Jacob's door, before touching her forehead as another sudden laceration materialized just beneath her hairline. The rich blood dripped down the side of her face straining her T-shirt, but she felt no pain-nothing at all.

_What's happening to me? _Rochelle thought.

"Jacob…"

She turned to his door again, and waited. His figure disappeared the moment he stepped out of the vehicle, but she prayed that he would return. A hazy gray fog surrounded her and the car, and her breathing produced the only sound.

After a deep pause, Rochelle knew he wasn't coming back.

"I'm dreaming…" Rochelle murmured, finally breaking through to her senses. She faced forward staring at the windshield and deeper into the unknown stretching before her. "Coach! Ellis! Nick!" She unbuckled her seatbelt, and opened the door in attempt to flee. "Guys! Answer me!"

Rochelle stepped out of the car, realizing it was a big mistake. She lost her grip on the door handle, and plummeted sinking deeper within the emptiness. The wind rushed past her face as she twirled, and swung her arms in front of her. Rochelle reached back for the car no longer in view and closed her eyes, submitting to the darkness swallowing her whole.

* * *

Rochelle opened her eyes, and shot up from the ground gasping for air. Her body immediately attacked her, igniting in pain. She greeted her teeth, fighting to bite back the agony taking control. Her head throbbed, forceful and deep, and her arms ached with each movement. Her legs trembled like jell-o, and Rochelle refused to stand to her feet.

Before she could even glance at the vicinity, Rochelle rolled to her side. She inhaled deep breaths trying to suppress the growing urge in her stomach. The wall of strength within in her crumbled and she retched, hacking and coughing due to the lack of food in her system.

Once the ill feeling subsided, Rochelle wiped her tears and brought her knees to her chest. She cried because of the pain, but also because of everything else going on. Through her watery gaze, Rochelle spotted a fume rising from the downed helicopter yards away. A small fire circled the chopper posing a threat to the lined forest scaling the background.

Rochelle sobbed, and examined herself from the crash. She spotted numerous cuts covering her arms, and her clothes were dirty, stained and slightly ripped. Her boots were streaked in dry blood, and the sole of her shoes were eroding from her deadly encounters with a Spitter. The only serious wounds she received was the cut below her wrist, and the laceration along her hairline.

_The same ones from my dream._

Rochelle shook her head. Why was she now having dreams about her ex? Ever since they separated two months ago she was able to move on and focus on her career. She admitted that Jacob did cross her mind on the plane ride down to Georgia, but nothing to this extreme. Florida and Georgia are neighboring states after all. Somehow, Rochelle imagined it as her life flashing across eyes, but only in her dreams and one at a time.

_Did you survive Jacob, or are you now one of the walking undead?_

"Rochelle?"

Rochelle jumped, startled by the voice behind her. She scanned the abandoned train along the tracks, and spotted Coach limping toward her. He was battered, bloodied, and exhausted, but still alive.

"Coach!" Rochelle struggled to her feet and successfully pushed back the second wave of sickness. She met him half-way, grabbing his arm as he placed his hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Coach caught his breath, wiping the sweat and blood from his forehead. "I'm…okay." He winched, placing his weight one foot. "My leg is killin' me though."

Rochelle studied him up and down, frowning at the tear on his pant leg near the knee. The blood from his wound soaked through his pants, and spread across his leg like popping veins. "Is it your bad knee?"

Coach pressed his lips together and nodded. Rochelle craned her neck in every direction, searching for a place to rest. Besides the downed helicopter and the abandoned train, nothing but nature surrounded them. From her view, Rochelle could only make out the endless supply of trees materializing along the thick expanse of early morning fog.

Rochelle sighed. "Come on, Coach. Let's go see if there is a place to rest on the train."

Rochelle placed Coach's arm around her shoulder and carefully led him to the gray train car. They both slid open the door, and entered the small compartment occupied with two wooden tables, a single med-kit and a lit lantern used to signal the engineer. Rochelle flashed a weak smile at the sight.

_Maybe luck hasn't given up on us yet. _

Coach slid the door closed behind them and took a seat on the ground groaning. Rochelle grabbed the med-kit off one of the tables, and joined his side.

"You need the med-kit for your wounds," Coach said between breaths, in attempt to decline help.

Rochelle shook her head. "No Coach, I'm fine. You already have a bad knee. We need to cover this gash. Can you roll up your pant leg?"

Coach refused to protest anymore, and did as told. Rochelle tore open the med-kit and inhaled a sharp breath at the sight of Coach's wound. The fresh laceration was deep, but luckily not deep enough for stitches. The blood consumed his leg, partially dry against dark skin, making it difficult for Rochelle to even spot the actual wound.

"You're a strong man, Coach."

Rochelle waited a minute, letting the sensation of vertigo pass, before she began to tend to his injury. She and Coach both knew she needed help-they all did-but Rochelle ignored her own blood seeping from her wounds and focused on tending to Coach.

"You have any idea on where we are?" Rochelle asked.

"Not a clue, but from the looks of it…we're near the bayou."

"Great…" Rochelle muttered. She began to cleansed his wound with shaky hands, using cotton balls and alcohol. Coach eyed her fidgety fingers before lifting his sights to her. Rochelle refused to meet his gaze and concentrated on his cut, maintaining her energy to prevent herself from blacking out. "How do you think we survived the crash?" Rochelle's voice cracked, but she hoped to drive his attention elsewhere.

"I don't know." Coach rested his head against the metal wall and closed his eyes. "Maybe it wasn't our turn to die."

"Yeah, but now we have to put up with hell longer. I think we're being tortured."

"That could be true, or maybe it's our duty to make it to salvation alive."

Rochelle wrapped Coach's leg thinking about what he said. They were so close to making to freedom, but didn't stop to think about their next plan after leaving Whispering Oaks. None of them expected the chopper pilot to be infected, but then again he did act strange. Rochelle was too tired to even consider the possibility, and now they were right back to where they started.

After bandaging Coach's leg, Rochelle used a spare cloth to wiped the blood from her forehead. She licked her capped lips, ready to collapse, but muffled voices from outside the car reached her ears. Rochelle turned her head to the second closed train door, leading to the other side. A faint glimpse of hope ripped through her.

"Is that Nick and Ellis?"

Coach shrugged. "I don't know, but I sure hope so."

Rochelle stood to her feet with another struggling attempt and slid open the door. She immediately spotted Nick and Ellis standing next to a warehouse and electrical pole, but her eyes darted to the abandoned gas station, and random yellow car. In the distance a search light shined on a hand-made banner, but Rochelle could barely see the words from her location.

"Nick! What the hell, you shot the pilot!"

Rochelle tore her sights back to her companions now arguing in the middle of nowhere. Nick stood with arms crossed and glared at Ellis who waved his arms in the air. Rochelle smiled at them both.

"Well he wasn't doing a very good job once he became a zombie now was he?" Nick retorted.

Ellis nodded. "True, true, he was a zombie, but he was also our only pilot."

"I shot zombie. He was a zombie Ellis. He must have gotten bitten before he picked us up."

"Guys!" Rochelle called, gripping the side of the door.

Ellis and Nick both reacted to her voice.

"Ro! You're okay!" Ellis smiled.

As they hurried toward her, Rochelle shut her eyes feeling her body wobble back and fourth. She felt nauseous and her heart raced, but she took several deep breaths. Just when she thought she composed her nerves her legs buckled and Rochelle fell off the train.

"Rochelle!"

Rochelle waited for her body to meet the hard dusty surface, but instead she fell against Nick and into his arms.

"Ro, what's wrong?" Nick asked, supporting his weight as he wrapped his arms around her.

Rochelle placed her feet firmly on the ground, but leaned against his chest and gripped his shoulders, afraid she would fall if he let go. "Nick, I'm tired and feel like shit."

Nick frowned and lifted her up into his arms. He stepped back inside the train with Ellis following right behind.

"What happened?" Coach asked, shifting from his position on the floor.

"Ro pretty much fainted," Ellis replied, his voice full of concern.

Nick gently lowered Rochelle to the ground, and once she was positive her dizziness wore off she opened her eyes. Nick knelt beside her with renewed fear in his eyes as he examined the wound on her forehead. He brushed his fingers along her dry skin, and cursed under his breath, grabbing her hand to check the slash across her wrist. His fingers were rough, and warm against her skin, and Rochelle never tore her gaze from him.

"She's losing too much blood," Nick explained tightening his jaw. He removed his med-kit, and handed it to Ellis who stood on the other side of Rochelle. "Here. Patch up her wounds while I go and search the houses across the way. We need to get some water."

"Why what's wrong?" Ellis asked accepting the med-kit.

"I think Rochelle's getting dehydrated," Nick replied, stepping back to the opening. "And we all will too if we don't do something."

"Are you going to be okay by yourself?" Coach raised an eyebrow and scratched his chin. "Remember, we lost our weapons in the crash."

Nick folded his arms, and scanned the train using his flashlight as a guide. He moved to the far corner near Coach and grabbed a hidden crow bar slouched against the wall. "There. Now I'll be fine."

"Be careful," Rochelle whispered as he passed by her.

Nick nodded without a word and hopped outside, disappearing around the corner. Ellis sat down next to Rochelle and grabbed supplies out of the med-kit. A blanket of silence covered the air as Rochelle thought about Nick's diagnosis. She did feel sick-overwhelmed by fatigue and nausea-and could have easily saw this coming. When was the last time she truly got a good night's sleep? When was the last time any of them enjoyed a simple meal? They traveled across Georgia like they were running a marathon, doing anything they can to escape.

"He seems a bit more helpful than usual," Ellis commented with a smile in his voice.

Rochelle leaned her head back. "I agree." She winced, gritting her teeth against the flash of pain.

"Don't worry now," Ellis soothed, gently taking her arm. "Let me help you."

As Ellis cleaned and wrapped her wound, Rochelle tipped her head and peered at Coach on the other side of the train car. He continued to rest against the wall with his hands on his lap. The light from the lantern shimmered along the side of his face. His eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell in a steady, calm motion. Rochelle figured he was almost asleep by now, and she turned back to Ellis as he finished wrapping her wrist.

"Are you hurt from the crash?" Rochelle questioned, breaking through the silence and keeping her voice low.

Ellis stood and positioned himself on her left side to get a better view the cut on her forehead. He knelled on the ground hovering so close to her body that she could feel his warmth cradling her skin. Rochelle inhaled a tight breath as Ellis brushed away the loose strands of hair framing her face, and began to clean her wound.

"Nothin' too serious," Ellis finally replied. "It's a miracle Nick and I weren't injured like you and Coach.

"You both are just lucky."

Ellis leaned back lowering his eyes to hers "Hey, you're still breathin' right?" Rochelle nodded feeling a smile creep in her lips. "Then you're lucky as well."

Rochelle closed her eyes and clenched her fists trying to ignore her pounding head. She felt Ellis's presence hovering right next to her and once he reached his arms around to wrap her forehead her heart exploded into overtime. She couldn't think of any words to say to help relieve the awkward moment. Ellis gently tightened the white bandage over her wound and underneath her ponytail. He knelt so close she could hear his calm breathing, but luckily he's cheerful voice broke through the tense air with just the right thing to say.

"Hey, now we're twins." He grinned and titled his head showing her his wrapped forehead underneath his hat.

"You're too much, Ellis."

Ellis stepped back after he finished. "Is that a good thing?"

"Yes, and thank you."

He grinned and Rochelle caught a glimpse of his tribal tattoo as he collected the trash, and used supplies. She has noticed it before, but has never seen the symbol up close.

"Ellis, does that tattoo mean anything?"

Ellis glanced down at his arm, and brought the empty med-kid to the table. "Oh this right here? It means I'm a badass zombie killing machine."

Rochelle shook her head rubbing her fingers over her bandage. "Wow. You must have amazing foresight to get that."

Ellis laughed, and dropped the supplies on the table. He pushed them away from the edge, and turned around leaning back. They both fell into another silence, staring at each other, listening to Coach's light snoring. Rochelle fiddled with her bracelets and turned her attention to the opened door, exposing the brisk and calm air which welcomed the early rays of twilight.

"I'm worried about Nick," Rochelle said when Ellis refused to break his gaze. "He shouldn't be out there by himself. Anything can happen."

Ellis folded his arms. "Do you want me to go find him?"

"No," Rochelle whispered, swallowing tightly. "I feel better knowing you're safe with us."

Ellis hopped to his feet and moved to her side with an extra skip in his step. He settled on the ground, crossing his legs out in front of him. "What can I do to help draw your mind elsewhere?"

Rochelle shrugged. "I don't know. I'm tired, but I wouldn't mind you telling me at least one story."

Ellis's eyes lightened and craned his neck to face her. "Really? What do you want to hear?"

"How about explaining how the Midnight Riders saved your life four times." Rochelle chuckled.

"Oh ya! Well the first time was when Dave and I went campin' a year ago. We ended up strayin' from our tents and went for a walk in the woods. We got lost because Dave thinks he has a sense of direction, but he doesn't." Ellis shook his head. "Anyway, the moon was out by then and Dave had brought his boom box along..."

"A boom box?" Rochelle raised her eyebrows.

"Ya. Dave likes to keep things old-fashioned I guess. He never wants to get rid of that thing. Well he started to play the Midnight Riders and some guy who pulled over the side of the road, because of a flat tire, heard the music and found us. We helped him fix his tire and he got us out of there.""

"That's amazing," Rochelle said, yawning. She leaned her head on Ellis's shoulder as sleep began to take hold. "What's the second time?"

"The second time was when I was workin' at the shop," Ellis continued, completely unfazed by Rochelle against him.

Rochelle shut her eyes listening to Ellis's story and picturing them occurring in her head. Eventually his words began to fade in her ears, and by the time he neared the conclusion of his third save Rochelle had fallen asleep.

* * *

"Sweetheart wake up."

Rochelle flinched, and groaned feeling a firm hand shake her shoulder.

"Rochelle."

"Nick?" Rochelle murmured, recognizing his voice.

She sat up from the ground and rubbed her eyes, letting them come to focus. Nick bent down in front of her resting his elbows on his knees with a bloodied crow bar in one hand and a bottled water in the other. She turned her to head to Ellis who laid on the ground next to her, fast asleep with his hat concealing his face.

"I'm surprised. Ellis did a good job bandaging your wounds," Nick muttered switching his glances from her forehead to her wrist.

"What happened?" Rochelle looked in the other direction at Coach still snoring.

"Nothing," Nick replied. "Take this. Drink up."

Rochelle accepted the bottle, and twisted off the cap guzzling down the warm fluid until her chest screamed for air. Nick shifted from his spot, and moved to the side revealing five more bottles of water on the ground.

"Where did you get all of those?" Rochelle's eyes widened, and she took another sip.

"There's a gas station just down the road," Nick said. He lifted the crow bar with a hint of amusement in his voice. "This thing does wonders getting inside. There was bunch of food and snacks still stocked." He stood, and turned as if he were about to leave again. "I'm going to head back and gather some more."

"No." Rochelle reached forward and grabbed his wrist.

Nick stopped and furrowed his brow. He lowered his gaze to her hand before meeting her eyes. "What?"

"How about you wait until we're ready to move on? We can stop at the gas station, eat, gather what can and then search for way to get to New Orleans."

"Why don't you want me to go now?"

"Because it's better for all of us to go as a team," Rochelle whispered. "And you haven't rest yet."

"You don't have to worry about me, sweetheart."

"I know but…" Rochelle released her hold, and settled back against the wall. She couldn't bring herself to say anymore.

Nick pursed his lips, studying her closely, making her wonder what she had said. Before she could question it, he spoke. "Alright, you win. Go back to sleep. I'll keep watch."

"Just close the train door so you can sleep," Rochelle suggested, gesturing to the opening with a nod. "I don't think the zombies are smart enough to actually get inside and search in here."

Nick considered the option and set the crow bar on the table, next to the empty supplies. He gripped the door with both hands and slid it close, cringing at the screeching of metal. Ellis jumped startled by the unexpected sound, but he licked his dry lips and doze back off to sleep. Coach on the other hand jolted awake.

"You back Nick?" Coach's voice trembled at the sudden overpowering gloom.

"Yeah, go back to sleep Coach." Nick flipped his flash light on and shined the vibrant bulb on the floor.

As Rochelle finished her first bottled water, Nick removed his jacket and folded it into a self made pillow. She thought he was going to use it for himself again, but was astonished to see him hand it over to her.

"Here, use this."

Rochelle reluctantly took his jacket, and smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem." Nick tugged at the sleeves of his blue shirt and took a seat against the wall, positioning himself diagonally from Coach.

Rochelle set his handmade pillow on the ground, and laid down resting her head on his jacket. When Nick turned off his flashlight another wave of darkness engulfed them and she shuddered. Although Rochelle knew she was safe as along as Coach, Nick and Ellis were with her.

Rochelle closed her eyes, and listened to Nick's shuffling until an eerie quiet circulated the room. She took a deep breath inhaling the scent emitting from his clothing. It was the smell of cigarettes and a splash of Boomer puke, but another scent twirled in her nostrils-a sweet but strong cologne. Rochelle wasn't fully awake, but she was aroused that it was same kind of cologne teasing her throughout college. An aroma from guys who would sit by her in class, or dance near her at parties. The same smell that awakened her senses, and made her want to embrace him.

But for now, Rochelle could only fall asleep inhaling his scent.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Wow, my apologizes for the long wait between updates. I hope this chapter makes up for it.

I don't have much to say this time around. Sorry for any mistakes. I only got to read through this once. Also, I drifted a bit from the game in terms of conversations, but its nothing too serious.

Thank you so much for the reviews, and all of the readers enjoying this story so far.

-DJ Dork


	13. Haunting My Dreams

**-Chapter 12-  
**Haunting My Dreams

Rochelle waded through the swamp, clutching her gun with one hand and swatting flies and mosquitoes with the other. There were a million of places she'd rather be right now, and compared to the messy, uncomfortable situation they currently faced, Whispering Oaks felt like paradise. Rochelle hated to admit that she wouldn't mind tackling the mall again. She tried to imagine herself there instead of tracking across knee-high murky waters.

"Stay close y'all," Coach said, cocking his weapon.

Rochelle stopped and slapped her forearm, killing the tenth mosquito that bit her skin. "Anyone got any bug spray?" she asked, slightly joking.

Ellis continued to follow Coach, glancing over his shoulder as he brushed by. "You can try covering yourself in mud. We got plenty of that."

Rochelle grimaced, but lowered her head.

_He's not lying, that's for sure. _

She lifted her foot and swallowed hard, watching the dark, gummy mud consume and drip down her boot. Rochelle lowered her leg, steadying herself, and let her eyes trail to Ellis and Coach. The two of them pressed onward, conversing with each other, ignoring the fact that the mud possibly seeped into their shoes, and ruined their clothes. Their pant legs were soaked and marked from where the mud reached their knees, similar to algae circling a rock or pole on low-tide. It wasn't too noticeable on Ellis's black pants, but clearly visible with Coach and Nick. Especially Nick.

His white suit had no chance against the nature unfolding around them.

_Speaking of which…_

"You alright, Ro?" Nick asked, trailing from behind.

Rochelle nodded. Ever since they left their make-shift safe room in the train car the guys have been keeping an extra eye on her. Nick is determined to think she's still dehydrated, but she declined the option to rest. Rochelle doesn't want to be the one responsible for slowing them down. The sooner they get out of the swamp…the better.

"I'm good," Rochelle replied, flashing a smile.

She took the moment to reach into her white and blue backpack. They found three of them buried within the houses they passed a while back, or as Ellis likes to call it, "the town of swamp people." She removed the half empty bottled water, and cooled her parched throat before Nick reminded her to do so. With backpacks in tow they were able to collect as much food as possible from the convenient store Nick forcefully entered. It gave them a little bit of reassurance knowing that they have food for their travels.

"Are you thirsty?" Rochelle asked, since Nick was the only one without a backpack of food and supplies.

Nick shook his head. "Not yet. I'm just ready to get the hell out of here. This swamp isn't doing my suit any favors."

Rochelle tried to stifle a chuckle. She hated to laugh since Ellis and Coach already joked at Nick for complaining about the swamp and his suit-sort of payback from the times he cracked at him. To help cover up her smile she took another long gulp finishing her second bottle. When Nick finally turned away and moved to catch up with Coach and Ellis, Rochelle lowered the empty bottle and stuffed it back into her bag. She shouldered the backpack and quickly glanced over the vacant swampland before continuing.

They traveled as fast as they could through the waters. Coach lead as if he had a good sense of direction, and Rochelle wondered if he would ever stop to admit that they were lost. Everything around them looked vaguely similar and almost never ending. Nothing but tall, dark trees surrounded them, and some of the trees were reduced to broken trunks. An eerie fog lingered in the far distance, and every once in a while a cool breeze would shake the thinning leaves and hug against their skin.

The only positive thing was that they haven't seen a single zombie since they left the safe house under the train tracks. Although that didn't stop them from lowering their guard. The swamp burst with life, and there was no telling what lurked in the growing shadows.

"Coach, do you have any idea on where you're heading?" Nick asked surly, after a long moment.

"Do you want to lead Nick?" Coach abruptly stopped, causing Ellis to bump into him. "I'm only followin' my instincts."

Nick folded his arms. "Then you're probably leading us straight to a buffet."

Coach furrowed his brow, clutching tighter to his assault rifle. "Cut the shit, Nick." He turned and stepped forward, making his way up to the patch of dry land covered with moss and a series of protruded roots. "But…" He set his gun down, and slid off his backpack. "A small break doesn't sound too bad."

"What?" Nick charged toward Coach, who sat against a tree with a bottled water and a Snickers bar. "You can't be serious."

"Just a small break," Coach repeated, chugging the water.

Rochelle frowned and shook her head, listening to the pointless argument between Coach and Nick.

"You know, restin' doesn't sound too bad," Ellis added with his usual cheerfulness, but neither Coach or Nick acknowledged him.

Rochelle stopped next to Ellis and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I have a feeling we're going to be here for a while."

Ellis smiled at her and nodded in agreement. While Nick and Coach continued to bicker, an unusual, low growl reached Rochelle's ears and stood apart from the older gentlemen's voices. Rochelle twisted her body, glancing back in the other direction. Her eyes darted to the swaying leaves, to the various shrubs on the ground, and to the long winding path they just came from. The strange noise sounded again, and a ripple expanded in the dark water from behind a distant tree.

"Ellis…" Rochelle whispered, slightly cautious. He failed to response to her soft call due to Nick and Coach, but Rochelle's eyes remained glued to the fading ripple.

_Maybe it was an animal. _She thought. _Like a bird…or an alligator…_

Another sudden movement and the same irregular growl snapped through to Rochelle's senses. Her heart raced and she grabbed Ellis's wrist.

"Ellis!"

"What's the matter, Ro?" Ellis looked down at her, then followed her gaze.

Before Rochelle could even blink, a body jumped from behind the tree and sprinted toward them on all fours. Gunfire rattled into the air and sliced through whatever was left of the calm swamp. It took a moment for Rochelle to realize she was the one firing, but the thought quickly vanished. The sudden bullets silenced both Coach and Nick who reacted to her gun, and Ellis's shouts.

"Holy shit! Swamp people!"

Rochelle's finger released the trigger once the creature collapsed into the water.

"What the hell was that?" Coach asked, jumping to his feet.

Rochelle opened her mouth, but words failed to escape. She was too stunned to even speak, and could only examine the creature she just killed. Ellis, on the other hand, drew enough courage to move closer to the mud-covered human succumbed by the infection.

"They're Mud Men," Ellis said.

Nick stepped up next to Rochelle, and looked down at the body floating in the water. "Looks like the swamp people didn't survive the infection after all."

Rochelle lowered her weapon to her side as her heart finally settled in her chest. Her eyes continued to roam up and down the lifeless zombie. The person once lived within these swamps, living a life far different from any city dweller like herself. It didn't matter where anyone lived though. The infection would travel to every nook, home, city, town, and swamp.

_How many people actually developed an immunity to the infection?_

Rochelle looked around at her companions. Out of all the people in the United States alone, the chances appear slim - one in a million. Throughout their travels, they have yet to encounter another human immune to the infection. The four of them are lucky.

"Oh hell." Coach quickly tossed his backpack over his shoulder, spilling some of the contents from the unzipped pocket. "Here come more."

Rochelle's eyes widened. Without warning, a wave of zombies emerged from the trees - a mixture of both Mud Men and normal looking infected. Mud and water sprayed in every direction from the hurtling stampede as their piercing cries sounded together like a standing ovation. It was as if the zombies were waiting for the perfect moment to attack, and the first zombie's death was their signal to charge.

Rochelle lifted her Magnum, and joined the men beside her as they fired a continuous round of bullets along the zombies drawing near. Ellis shoved a raven haired female away, killing her with a shot to the forehead, and Nick kicked at a Mud Men circling his feet.

"Let's go!" Coach shouted.

Rochelle moved with his voice, and jumped into a sprint. They ran through the swamp, as fast as they could, shooting at the undead following their tracks. Rochelle had hard time keeping up with Coach and Nick due to her backpack and the gloomy water slowing her down, but she didn't panic too much as long as Ellis remained by her side.

It didn't take long to kill off the zombies once Coach threw a Pipe Bomb in the other direction. The ticking device lured majority of them to their deaths, but it didn't stop the Charger from plowing between the trees and knocking Nick away from the group. Within a heartbeat, he disappeared with the monstrous infected into the overgrown shrubs. The plants broke away as Nick's scream grew further with each passing moment.

"This thing is beating my ass!"

"Nick!" Rochelle cried. She wanted to run to his aid, but the lingering zombies nearby held her attention.

"Hold on, young'un," Coach said as he and Ellis hurried toward the Charger.

Rochelle side-stepped, ready to move with them, but a thick, warm tongue wrapped around her waist and yanked her in the opposite direction. She tried to scream, but the tongue flipped around her throat cutting off all sounds. Rochelle fell to her back, and closed her eyes as her body was dragged along the bumpy, dirty surface.

_Coach. Ellis. Help! _

She couldn't bring her mouth scream and prayed one of them noticed her absence. The Smoker reeled her back like a fisherman out on a boat, and Rochelle tugged and fought like any fish in danger. Pain ignited like small sparks of firecrackers along her skin as she was pulled through a bush. Once her body submerged under the dark water, Rochelle's heart battered against her ribcage and a sudden panic erupted all nerves. She dug her fingernails into the Smoker's tongue in an attempt to break through its slimy, rough surface.

At first, Rochelle thought her planned actually worked since the Smoker let her go, but when she jump to her feet, emerging from the water, bullets sprayed past her body killing the special infected. Rochelle wiped her face, moving away from the random gunfire in her direction. She inhaled deep, even breaths letting the air refill her lungs.

When Rochelle finally opened her eyes she found herself dangerously close to the smoke cloud released upon the Smoker's death. She coughed, stumbling away some more to an area with fresh air.

"Guys! Where are you?" Rochelle asked between coughs.

She tugged on the straps of her backpack and looked around the vacant area. Rochelle tried listening for the gunfire, but heard nothing but the faint sobs of a mourning Witch.

_Oh shit…_

Rochelle twirled, turning her head in every direction. She didn't know where she was. With her eyes closed throughout the whole ordeal, Rochelle couldn't even guess how far the Smoker pulled her. She was lost, but didn't want to admit it.

"Guys!"

Rochelle picked a direction and ran as the water splashed against her thighs. She searched between the trees surprised that couldn't find Coach, Nick or Ellis anywhere. When the familiar crying grew, rattling her brain, Rochelle inched backwards. Her chest moved up and down with her heavy breathing, and she licked her lips wanting to get rid of the disgusting taste still lingering from the swamp water.

"Please guys…where are you?" Rochelle continued to inch backwards, letting her wide, exhausting eyes scan every surrounding.

"Rochelle!"

Rochelle gasped as a large hand grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the water up to a dry patch of land. Her muscles tightened, but relaxed at the sight of Coach.

"Coach-"

"-Shh," Coach whispered, interrupting her.

The older man pointed, and Rochelle followed his finger to the Witch well hidden in the water, next to a broken trunk. Rochelle practically froze on the spot at how close she was to startling to the long haired zombie. The Witch's cries turned to into aggravated growls, but as the two of them carefully moved away from her the Witch calmed.

When Rochelle knew they were safe distance away she looked up at Coach. "What happened?"

Coach dropped his grip, and wiped the sheen of sweat and water from his forehead. "We got separated. Are you okay?"

Rochelle lowered her eyes to the small cuts along Coach's arm, and the good size bump on the side of his head. "I'm fine. How about you?"

"I'm alive. That's all that matters."

"Where's Ellis and-" Rochelle stopped short suddenly remembered the Charger drawing Nick away from the group. She grabbed Coach's arm. "Is Nick okay?" she asked, failing to hide the quiver in her voice.

Coach let out a weak laugh and nodded. "He's okay. C'mon, they're waiting for us."

Rochelle wasted no time following Coach through the swamp. He moved quickly, but she was able to keep up with his fast pacing. They moved toward a wooden structure in the distance, which appeared to be an unfinished house. As Coach passed underneath a lifeless man hanging from the trees Rochelle stopped momentarily. She lifted her chin, gaping at the parachutist with an AK-47 strapped to his body. Rochelle grabbed the weapon, since she lost her Mangum in the Smoker incident, and hurried to catch up with Coach.

_Rest in peace. _

Rochelle frowned and cast the man a fleeting glance, but the sound of Ellis's cheerful voice ahead pulled her upsetting thoughts away. She ran after Coach, and carefully stepped through the broken, bare home. Nick and Ellis both waited on the other side standing in the middle of a small field.

"Rochelle." Ellis smiled and jumped to his feet as Rochelle hurried toward them. Ellis wrapped his arms around her with a quick hug. "Man, I'm glad to see you again. You had me worried."

"I did?" Rochelle pulled back, looking up at him.

Ellis nodded, and for a quick second fear flooded his eyes. "I thought that Smoker had you."

Rochelle shuddered, thinking back on the incident just minutes ago. She narrowed her eyes to the ground. "I did too," she whispered.

Nick walked up to them with a slight limp in his step. He was completely soaked, similar to her, and his white suit was covered with splotches of mud and blood. Rochelle couldn't tear her eyes away from the red substance staining his clothes. She feared that he was injured from the Charger attack, but Nick failed to show any signs of significant pain.

Nick must of read the anxiousness clearly visible on her face. He lowered his eyes to his suit and looked back at her. "It's not mine."

Rochelle exhaled a relieving sigh and stepped away from Ellis. "Are you alright?"

Nick ran his fingers through his matted, damp hair. "Apart from being dirty and wet, I guess I'm okay."

Rochelle bit her lip and, much to her surprise, moved forward to wrapped her arms around him. She could feel Nick tense from her embrace. He kept his arms at his side, but Rochelle closed her eyes and smiled when he caved in and wrapped an arm around her back. He returned the hug despite the uncomfortable feel of their wet clothes sticking together.

"I'm glad," Rochelle replied, softly.

"Hey, do you guys see that smoke?" Ellis asked, pointing.

Rochelle opened her eyes and reacted to Ellis's voice. Her and Nick both turned to the plume of smoke rising above the trees in the distance.

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't know, Ellis," Coach said, folding his arms. "Let's keep movin', and find out."

* * *

"Hey. Rochelle?"

Rochelle opened her heavy eyes, waiting for them to come into focus. She groaned and stretched, but objects constricted her movements. It took a couple of long seconds for Rochelle to remember her location. Once she spotted the row of airplane seats in front of her every memory flooded back at once.

"You okay?" the same voice asked, slightly anxious this time.

Rochelle forced a smile. "Yes, Ellis. I'm fine." She turned to him sitting at the end of her row. Only a single empty chair separated them.

"Oh good." Ellis exhaled a sigh. "You were whimperin' in your sleep."

Rochelle raised her eyebrows and sat up straighter in the seat. She briefly glanced out the cracked, rounded window, letting her eyes wander the ghostly swamp. "I was?" She looked back at Ellis.

Ellis smiled. "Yeah." His face soon fell. "You were callin' out for…Jacob."

Rochelle frowned, and looked down at her hands. She had yet another dream about him. This dream was similar to her previous one, except it focused on their date earlier that day. They were eating out at a restaurant and it was after dinner when Jacob stopped at the gas station to fill up his tank.

_Jacob…why are you haunting my dreams._

"Who is Jacob?" Ellis's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She looked at him and saw Coach sitting in the row across the aisle. He had single bandage wrapped around his head, and ate out the rest of his backpack. Rochelle momentarily lifted out of her seat, frowning at her damp clothes sitting to her skin, to glance over the rows still connected to the plane. Nick was moving down the aisle toward them with an axe and shotgun in his hands.

"He's my ex-boyfriend," Rochelle finally answered, settling back into the seat. She rubbed her fingers across the bandage on her arm.

"Oh…" Ellis said, prolonging the brief silence. "Do you think he is still alive?"

Rochelle shrugged. Her mind did ponder the question before. Did Jacob survive the apocalypse? Did he, dare she say it, become a zombie? She would never know the truth unless she searched for him. But then her mind wandered in a different direction. What would have happened if she did go with him to Florida? Things would be different. One things for sure, she wouldn't be here sitting on a downed plane with Coach, Nick or Ellis.

"Hey Ellis…"

"Ya?"

"Do you ever regret not taking a chance in the past?" Rochelle asked, keeping her voice low.

Ellis faced her. "What kind of chance?"

"Any."

Ellis pursed his lips, lolling in the seat. It didn't take him long to reply. "Hell yeah. Plenty of times."

Coach nodded and leaned forward in his seat to peer at Rochelle. "I think we all have a time when we regret not takin' the chance."

Rochelle narrowed her gaze. Nick slid into the row in front of her and Ellis. He leaned against the middle seat, placing his weapons next to him, and rested his arms across the top of the chair to look at her.

Rochelle returned his gaze before looking back at Coach. "If…" she stopped and corrected herself. "When…we make it out of here, what is one thing that you would fix from your past?"

Coach rubbed his chin, and finished his last bar of chocolate. "I would buy the car my oldest daughter wanted."

Ellis's smile grew and his eyes sparkled in awe. "Is it a truck?" He asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

Coach shook his head. "No Ellis, it wasn't a truck."

Rochelle chuckled as Nick rolled his eyes at Ellis's remarked.

"What about you Ellis?" Rochelle asked, moving her backpack on the floor with her feet.

"Me?" Ellis pointed to himself, but his jovial demeanor quickly drained. He frowned and adjusted his hat, looking down at the floor. "Me and Keith got into a small argument before this whole apocalypse thing started, and I mean, right before. He ended up walkin' away from me to clear his head, and I waited for over an hour for him to return. I went to go look for him at his favorite diner, but he wasn't there. I grabbed a bite to eat and that's when everyone started…changin'." Ellis sighed, and leaned back folding his arms. "If we didn't argue then I bet we would still be together throughout this whole thing."

"I'm sorry Ellis…" Rochelle whispered.

"Its tough," Coach added.

"Thanks guys. I would try to find Keith after this is all over and apologize to him."

"I bet he is waiting for you in New Orleans," Rochelle said, in hopes of getting the old Ellis back. She hated to see him so upset, and vulnerable.

"I bet he is too," Ellis replied, smiling. "And maybe Jacob is as well."

Rochelle bit her lip, slightly taken back by the unexpected remark. She wished she had as much hope as Ellis did, but her belief was long gone. She would never want anything bad to happen to Jacob, but knew what kind of person he was. The chances of him in New Orleans were slim, but still…a tiny spark ignited in her senses at the thought of seeing him again.

"So what you would change, Ro?" Ellis asked, breaking the silence.

Rochelle looked over at him. "I guess, I would try to find Jacob…just to communicate with him again."

"Do you miss him?" Nick asked, refusing to break his gaze at her.

Rochelle shrugged. "There is some kind of feeling…" She smiled.

"Okay, your turn Nick." Ellis grinned, pointing.

Nick sighed deeply and shook his head.

"Aw, c'mon. We all said somethin', now it's your turn," Ellis said.

"We all should speak," Coach suggested finishing his chocolate.

"Fine," Nick spat, switching a glare between Ellis and Coach. "I guess mine would be similar to Ro's."

"What?" Rochelle asked.

"Remember what I said back at Whispering Oaks?" Nick asked. "I guess I would try to communicate with my sister."

Ellis quirked an eyebrow. "You got a sister?"

"Yeah, surprising isn't it?" Nick muttered, pushing himself off the seat. He grabbed his axe and shotgun.

"There is nothing wrong with trying to communicate with family," Coach spoke up, rubbing his knee. "It's something we all are going to do when we get out."

"Right, when we get out," Rochelle repeated, feeling herself smile.

_I can't wait until that day comes._

"Well, we aren't going to get out of here by sitting on a useless plane," Nick commented, moving toward the emergency door.

Coach sighed, and stood to his feet. "Lord, please guide us once more through the swamp, and lead us to another convenient store stocked with food."

Ellis turned to Rochelle as the two of them prepared themselves to leave. "Hey, Ro."

Rochelle shouldered her backpack, and seized her AK-47. "Yeah, Ellis?"

"When we get to New Orleans how about the two of us search for Keith and Jacob together?"

Rochelle's eyes widened. A smile crept in her lips at the thought of her and Ellis going on a another journey after completing this one to New Orleans. She told herself that she would try to find Jacob, and if Ellis was willing to search with her, then she very well couldn't deny him. After all, she enjoyed his company. "Sounds like a…a good idea."

"Get ready guys," Nick warned. "I have a feeling opening this door isn't going to be good."

Nick turned the lock and opened the hatch. As he predicated, the task sounded the alarm and another wave of zombies.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Wow. I left you all waiting way too long for an update. My deepest apologizes. Life really prevents me from focusing on fan fiction at times. I will also admit, my current fandom has shifted to GTA4, Split Second, and most recently L4D2 online. Yes!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed my previous chapter and those who are still sticking with me and my long awaited updates. Your kindness and reviews really inspired me to get another chapter done. I also want to say that I've been on this site for over five years now on a previous account that I no longer use. I've been comparing the stories I wrote on that account to my L4D stories on this one, and have discovered that _Crossroads _has become my most liked story ever. And we are only at the half-way mark. So again, I want to thank you all. Words are not enough to show my appreciation. I promise to have the next chapter updated soon. It's half-way done so I'm hoping and praying to have it up within the next week.

A quick note. If any of you are interested in whether or not Jacob is alive…his status is hinted in the previous chapter. I'm curious to see if anyone recognizes it.

I also noticed in my previous chapters that the site erased my indication that separates the time differences from one scene to another. I'm going to go back and fix those so if you get a notification that the chapter has been updated then it's only me changing those errors.

And, as always, sorry for the mistakes.

-DJ Dork


	14. Series of Unfortunate Events

**-Chapter 13-  
**Series of Unfortunate Events

Rochelle cursed for the 20th time within the past hour. She stopped short, watching her fellow companions wade back into the nasty wet grounds of the swamp. Just when she thought they finally reached a good stretch of dry land, they found themselves heading right back into the dark, lily-pad covered waters. Rochelle couldn't bare the thought anymore. At first, she was alright with traveling through the swamps. She understood it was their only way to find rescue, but now her feminine side was beginning to kick into gear.

As the others moved closer to the house submerged underwater, Rochelle looked down at her brown boots. She frowned at the sight of them now completely black, and hated the feel of her socks squishing every time she wiggled her toes. Her wet clothes hugged too tightly to her skin, and Rochelle didn't even want to know how badly she smelt. The only good side, though, was that the others probably smelt just as bad.

_I could really use a two day shower right now. _

"You coming, Ro?" Coach asked, his voice lifting from the front of the group.

"Yeah."

Rochelle sighed and quickly moved through the waters after them. She tugged on the straps of her backpack, making sure the last bit of food doesn't get ruined by the water. Her eyes wandered the vicinity as she brought up the rear, cautious of the zombies and Mud Men lurking about. Coach and Nick killed the lingering zombies swaying ahead, but every now and then a hidden zombie would emerge from underwater. Ellis finished them off quickly, using his frying pan, with a quick blow to the head.

"You guys don't think they built theses houses in the water, do ya?" Ellis asked, once he walked under the cracked, lopsided roof.

"No clue," Rochelle replied, eyes wide. "Only the swamp people could live this way."

"There's a bunch of supplies here," Coach commented with a smile in his voice. "Let's stock up."

Rochelle joined them inside the home, looking around, curious at how the people could possibly live. Furniture, such as chairs and couches, were completely underwater creating a small maze for them to travel through. Counters and tables tops were exposed just enough for previous survivors to leave an assortment of Molotov's, Pipe Bombs, and guns. Coach and Ellis wasted no time sliding off their backpacks, and collecting the various items.

"Here." Nick moved toward Rochelle, and lifted his arms showing her the two pipe bombs, and pills he collected.

Rochelle smiled and turned, letting him unzip her backpack and stuff the supplies inside. As Nick packed her bag, Rochelle glanced through the open gaps in the wood constructed home. There was something about the silence that bothered her. She heard nothing but the constant slush of the water from Coach and Ellis's movements. There was no gag from a Smoker, no growl from a Hunter, or hysterical laughter from a Jockey. Ever since they defeated the Tank, ten minutes back, they only encountered a few normal undead.

"Don't you the hate the silence?" Rochelle asked Nick.

"Just give it a few minutes. Ellis will find a story to blabber about soon," Nick retorted.

"No, I'm talking about the zombies."

Nick quirked an eyebrow, and zipped her backpack. "What? You actually want to hear them?"

"No…" Rochelle whispered. "It's just strange that we don't."

Nick tugged on her backpack, turning her around so she could face him. "After all the shit we've been through-" Nick reloaded his gun with the fresh ammo lying on the table. "-I can't get their damn noises out of my head."

Rochelle smiled, watching Nick venture to the other side of the house. She made her way passed the drowned chair and over to the table in the corner. A burst of relief flooded her veins at the sight of her favorite weapon, and she switched her axe with the Magnum lying on the table.

"Dry land ahead!" Ellis cheered, taking the lead.

Just hearing him shout those words stirred Rochelle into double time. She tossed the axe aside and hurried after him while Coach and Nick finished collecting supplies. Rochelle and Ellis ran to the narrow road ahead, moving toward an abandoned truck and randomly placed search light. Nick and Coach began to follow them right when Rochelle touched ground. She exhaled a long, comforting sigh and joined Ellis by the truck.

"I'm so glad to be out of-" Rochelle's voice trailed as her wide eyes locked onto the mass of bodies hidden on the far side of the truck.

She took a cautious stepped forward and stopped next to Ellis. Her heart raced against her chest, practically jumping to her throat. An discomforting pain churned in her stomach. The bodies of men, woman, and teenagers were enough to make her want to vomit. She couldn't tell if they were infected or not, but she did know they were all dead. Streaks of blood lead to the pile from the bottom of the hill as if whoever killed them dragged their dead bodies to the giant stack.

"Damn…" Rochelle whispered, swallowing hard.

Rochelle turned her head slightly, looking up at Ellis who remained quiet. His soft, blue eyes scanned the bodies and the truck before he looked at her. He gave her his usual jovial smile assuring her that everything would be okay.

"What did you guys find?" Coach asked as he and Nick ascended up the hill.

Before Rochelle or Ellis could reply, the sickening, deep roar of a horde sliced through the moist air. A tremor billowed through Rochelle's body once the zombies appeared from every direction. A long trail of the them raced down the road with blood dripping from their mouths and hands.

"Ah hell," Ellis cursed, grabbing his shotgun and shooting the ones that came up from behind.

Rochelle dropped down to her knees firing at the zombies on the road while Coach and Nick took care of the Mud Men sprinting in the water. Every time one zombie fell, another one quickly took its spot. Rochelle held a tight grip on her Magnum and reloaded every opportunity she could get. She gritted her teeth against the annoying and constant throb on her arms and legs from the zombie's nails. When a limb soared passed her, just missing her face, an unexpected scream escaped her mouth and Ellis turned to assist her.

"Use the supplies we just found!"

Rochelle heard Coach's voice above the clamor, but didn't have enough time to grab one from her backpack. Her and Ellis continued to fire at the never ending zombies in front of them, appearing to materialize out of thin air. Somewhere within the gunfire, shouts, and zombies gibberish groans, a high-pitched growl sounded in core of Rochelle's eardrum.

"Get this fucking thing off me!"

Rochelle shoved the nearest zombie, causing the young man to stumble backward. This gave her enough time to check on Nick and Coach. Rochelle immediately jumped to her feet at the sight of a Hunter pinning Nick. The hooded creature slashed at Nick's chest, and Rochelle felt tears brimming her eyes at the sound of his screams. Coach, trying to assist Nick, was surrounded by a bunch of zombies biting and scratching at his skin.

"Nick!" Rochelle cried. She pointed her weapon at the Hunter and began firing trying not to hit Nick.

"Hold on, Nick," Ellis shouted, taking out a Molotov.

Ellis lifted his arm, preparing to throw it at the second clusters of zombies hurtling toward from the road, but before he had a chance a Jockey leapt from behind. The hunchback zombie locked around Ellis causing him to accidentally throw the Molotov toward Nick and Coach.

Rochelle managed to kill the Hunter attacking Nick, but jumped back at the sight of the Molotov exploding into a massive pool of fire. She inhaled sharply, and crawled back as the immense heat burned against her skin.

Despite the Molotov almost coming into contact with them, it gave Coach enough time to help Nick after the zombies surrounding him caught fire. Rochelle wiped the sweat from her forehead, and ran after the Jockey luring Ellis away from the group. She used the end of her weapon to knock the zombie off, but stumbled and fell into the water with Ellis at her side.

"Die you damn Jockey," Ellis cursed, swinging his frying pan and killing the special infected with a loud bang.

Rochelle sat up in the water, catching her breath, and grabbed the Magnum by her feet. She held her head and shut her eyes, letting the water drip down the side of her face. For once, she was actually content to be back in the water since it cooled her off from the unexpected Molotov burst.

Ellis returned to a stance, but lowered the kitchen utensil once he realized his Molotov killed the remaining zombies. "Are you okay, Ro?" he asked softly, helping her to her feet.

Rochelle nodded with a swift, weak smile. "I think so."

"Ro! Ellis," Coach called, his tone anxious and urgent.

"Oh my God! Nick!" Rochelle grabbed Ellis hand, and pulled him along as they hurried across the road.

For a split second, her mind completely forgot about Nick and the Hunter. She tried to stay composed, forcing her beating heart to relax. The moment she saw Coach kneeling over Nick she could have sworn her chest was going to explode.

"How is he?" Ellis asked.

Rochelle let go of Ellis's hand and bent down on the other side of Nick. Her eyes focused on the blood covering his chest, and his shredded blue shirt. Nick groaned, and respired quick, long breaths which calmed Rochelle somewhat.

_He's alive. _

She wanted to smile, but her lips wouldn't allow it. He was alive for now, but by the looks of his wounds death wasn't far down the road.

"Ro, help me with him," Coach explained quickly, carefully grabbing Nick's arm. "We gotta get somewhere safe."

Rochelle nodded. "Okay…" She grabbed Nick's left arm with trembling hands, helping Coach lift him off the ground.

"Do you need my help?" Ellis asked, watching them closely.

Nick opened his eyes and cast Ellis an icy glare. "No…" he muttered through gritted teeth.

Even seriously wounded Nick was still able to strike with anger, and the action caught Ellis and Rochelle off guard. Rochelle turned to Ellis who stepped back with a slow nod. The smile vanquished from his face, and the growing regret of sadness reflected off his fragile eyes.

"It's okay, Ellis…" Rochelle whispered, loud enough for him to hear.

Ellis nodded, but didn't smile.

"Come on, let's head down the road," Coach suggested, wrapping Nick's arm around his shoulder to help him walk.

Rochelle took the lead with Ellis, trying hard to boost his dampened mood. He assured her that everything was okay, but Rochelle took look at the scene - the burnt zombie corpses, Ellis's lackluster fake smile, Nick slowly dying next to Coach - and knew it was far from it. Luckily for them, a safe house rested only yards away from their previous fight with the horde. They entered the one-story home built with a main room, one tiny bedroom, and a connected bath. A table rested against the adjacent wall with two med kits and bunch of ammo. The gaps on the boarded windows, above the table, overlooked a small town of four houses.

Rochelle grabbed one of the med kits while Ellis peeked through the bars on the red, metal door. She watched Coach bring Nick into the room, and lower him to the floor. Rochelle bit her lip, feeling her body tremble, as her eyes once more wandered up and down Nick's chest, consumed with blood.

"Are you going to be okay Nick?" Ellis asked, stepping to the middle of the room. Nick leaned his head against the dirty, tired walls, and rolled his fingers into fists. He glared at Ellis without a sound. "Look I'm sorry."

"Sorry that you almost-" Nick paused and closed his eyes, biting his lip against the growing pain. " -almost burned us to a crisp?" he retorted surly.

"Nick…" Coach warned raising his bushy eyebrows. He stood his feet.

"I didn't do it on purpose," Ellis said, defending himself. "I was only tryin' to help."

"Well next time, think twice about helping," Nick snapped, before leaning his head back grimacing.

Ellis sighed and switched his glances between Coach and Rochelle. He shook his head and turned for heading for the door.

"Ellis," Rochelle called, but he removed the metal bar and stepped outside, leaving an awkward, unpleasant silence.

Rochelle pursed her lips hating to see Ellis so upset, but also hating to see Nick wounded. She looked down at the med kit in her hands, wishing the entire fight against the horde never occurred.

Coach sighed and rubbed his temples. He looked at Rochelle, refusing to even glance at Nick on the floor. "I'm gonna see if he is alright."

Rochelle nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. "Good idea."

Coach grabbed the remaining med kid and left the safe room, closing the door behind him. After Coach left, Rochelle wasted no time and shrugged off her backpack. She tossed it to the floor and tore open the med kit in her hands. Rochelle looked down at Nick breathing heavy on the floor. The blood from his encounter with the Hunter soaked through his shirt.

"God, first the Charger, then the Tank…" Nick took a deep breath. "Now this. What the hell is going on?"

"It's just a series of unfortunate events." Rochelle bent down next him and began to unbutton his shirt.

Nick opened his eyes, switching his glances from her to her shaky hands. "What are you doing?"

"You need to be healed or these wounds will get infected," Rochelle replied, refusing to look in his eyes.

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be fine," Rochelle replied, revealing a little bit of frustration in her voice. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't stay mad at him for being rude to Ellis. The only thing important was tending to his wounds. She needed to concentrate and not be agitated. "Can you remove your jacket?"

Nick did as told and followed her stern, but soft command. He carefully slid off his white jacket right after Rochelle managed to expose his bloodied chest. Normally, under different circumstances, she would take the time to silently gawk at any well built man without a shirt, but this wasn't the time to do so. Rochelle's thoughts whipped back to their less successful battle, but she slapped the images to the back of her mind and tossed them into oblivion.

Without anymore hesitation, Rochelle grabbed one of the cloths and began wiping away the fresh blood seeping from his wounds. The task exposed some dried blood forming dark lines across his swollen chest, spreading like connecting lines of a map. Nick bit his lip a couple of times during the entire process, but for the most part remained quiet. Rochelle could only imagine the agony he was going through right now. Just the sight of the three gashes across his chest devoured her with unsettling nausea. She swallowed the urge to empty her stomach, but the flies hovering in the room didn't help settle her mood.

Luckily, his wounds weren't in need of any stitches.

_We got to him in time._

After clearing the blood, Rochelle grabbed the bottle of iodine and dabbed another cloth. She paused for a moment, waiting for Nick to settle. Once she pressed the cloth against his skin he jerked away, cursing under his breath.

"Nick, I need to do it." Rochelle grabbed his hand, keeping him still.

She dapped the iodine once more.

"Shit, this hurts." He inhaled a tight breath.

"I'm surprised," Rochelle whispered. "You're handling it a lot better than I thought."

Nick grunted and clenched his jacket in his right hand, squeezing tightly. "I usually have a high tolerance for pain, but lately…shit just hasn't been right."

Rochelle smiled and with his help wrapped his chest. She used the entire bandage roll after noticing his blood briefly soaked through the first couple of wraps. Once she finished, Rochelle walked over to the small bathroom in the corner. She washed her hands, elated that the swamp people still had running water. The cold temperature sent a deep shiver up Rochelle's arms, but she ignored the feeling and turned to the metal door where Coach and Ellis left.

_I hope Ellis is alright._

She wanted to go check on him, but didn't want to leave Nick alone just yet.

"You hungry, Nick?" Rochelle asked, after shaking her hands dry.

She grabbed her backpack and twisted her head looking in Nick's direction. He pressed his back against the wall, and shook his head staring aimlessly down at his jacket. Rochelle frowned and grabbed some pills and a bottled water. She left the bag on the table, and returned to his side.

"Here, at least take this."

Nick lifted his eyes to the objects she held out in front of him. "Thanks," he murmured, accepting them.

Rochelle knelt back on the ground, resting on her knees, and faced him. A silence filtered throughout the safe room as Nick took a giant swig of the water. The lantern from the table shined a warm, pallid light against the side of his face. Rochelle quietly studied him, noting the exhausting look in his eyes, and seeing the energy being sucked from his feeble state. The tight bandage around his chest moved in rhythm with his quick breathing.

Nick lowered his drink, and looked down at his hands. He refused to glance in her direction, and Rochelle picked at her nails unsure of what to say. She cast another fleeting glance to the metal door where an eerie silence expanded on the other side. Rochelle turned back to Nick unable to inhale the quiet air any longer.

"You know…" Rochelle reached over, helping him shrug back on his tattered, blue shirt. "I think you're going to have to buy another suit."

Nick lifted his gaze. "You think?"

Rochelle chuckled. "I don't think. I know."

Nick flashed a small smirk. His action gave Rochelle enough courage to shift the conversation around.

'Nick…you really shouldn't have been so hard Ellis," she said, barely lifting her voice.

"Ellis just needs to be more careful," Nick replied, in attempt to sound angry, but Rochelle could still hear the pain he was in. He popped a couple of pills into his mouth. "Someone could have easily died."

"Like you…"

Nick met her gaze. "Any of us."

Rochelle parted her lips, thinking of something to say, but the words jumbled in her throat. She rubbed her arms, breaking her gaze from Nick. He was right - anyone of them could have died - but no one did. Just one small incident, one mishap, could have been the end. What if the Molotov exploded on Nick and Coach? What if none of them could reach Nick in time? What if they failed to defeat the Tank after leaving the down airplane?

_I guess theses are the risks we have to take. It's matter of life or death now. _

Nick sighed and groaned, rubbing his temples. "Look, I'm sorry."

Any thought hovering in Rochelle's mind that moment vanished. She snapped her head in his direction. "What?" She could have sworn she heard him wrong.

"I said…I'm sorry," he murmured, taking another sip of his water.

"You're actually apologizing?" Rochelle could feel a smile growing. "That's a first…but I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, I know." He paused, looking down at his hands. "I just…hate seeing you upset."

Rochelle's eyes widened taken back by yet another one of his comments. "Nick…" she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. Something about his sentence caused her heart to race. A feeling, some strange feeling, churned inside of her.

Nick looked up, but didn't say another word.

_Wow…I never realized how green his eyes are._

Suddenly, things started occurring on their own. Rochelle placed her other hand against Nick's cheek, gently stroking her thumb over his small cut. He refused to break his gaze. She could see he wanted to smile, but he was holding it back and trying to remain serious. Rochelle's heart continued pound, so fast it was probably heard within the midst of the overpowering silence. Nick closed his eyes and leaned closer, daring her to follow in pursuit.

_What am I doing?_

Before Rochelle could even answer, she closed her eyes the moment she felt Nick's lips against hers. She couldn't believe it was actually happening. At first, she thought she was dreaming, but she knew she wasn't. Nick's kiss was far more gentle than Rochelle could imagine. He wasn't forceful, or filled with any kind of huge desire. In fact, the kiss ended as quickly as it started, but it wouldn't be just one kiss. He pulled back briefly only to see how she would react.

"Nick…" Rochelle called, unable to say anything else.

Nick pressed his lips against hers once more. There was bit more desire this time as he brought his hand to her hip and slid his tongue into her mouth. Rochelle's hand tightened on his shoulder as she savored the new taste, actually enjoying the feel of their lips together.

Unfortunately, it once again it ended just as quickly as it occurred, and this time it was enough to leave Rochelle somewhat wanting more. When Nick pulled away, he lingered dangerously close to her lips as if daring for her to kiss him back. She could feel his warm breath against her lips, and it sent a deep shiver down her spine.

Rochelle almost caved in, but she didn't. She dropped her arms and drew back. Nick leaned back as well now watching her, but Rochelle lowered her gaze. For some apparent reason, she couldn't dare face him. His kiss racked all of her nerves, and left her speechless.

"What was that for?" Nick asked, and all at once the silence shattered around her.

"You kissed me."

"You lead me on, sweetheart," Nick replied swiftly, half-grinning.

Rochelle finally drew the courage to look at him. She stared into his eyes, and an inch of desire returned. "Well, you caught me off guard apologizing for you actions. I never expected you to do that."

"So if I apologize more often then I can get a kiss?"

Rochelle hoped there was joke somewhere in his question. Her heart skipped a beat, and she prayed the next words spoken flowed easily from her tongue. "N-not from me at least. I think this was just a spur of the moment incident."

_Yeah, that's what I want to believe, but do I?_

"Okay…" Nick muttered, turning away. "We'll just call it that then."

A wave of guilt punched Rochelle in the stomach, but she couldn't think of anything to say. She didn't want to send off the wrong expression. She enjoyed their kiss, but it was unexpected. She didn't mean for it to happen, but yet she wanted it to.

Rochelle sighed - even she couldn't explain her emotions. Part of her wanted it, but the other part wanted…

"I'm…going to go check on Ellis." Rochelle stood to her feet. She knew being with Ellis will help clear her head, and forget about the incident. "Are you going to be okay while I'll gone?"

"I think I can manage," Nick replied.

Rochelle nodded and turned, taking short, slow steps to the door. She could feel Nick's eyes boring straight through her, but she refused to look back. She continued moving toward her metal escape like her life depended on it. Rochelle didn't stop until she was outside, and out of Nick's view.

With the door securely closed behind her, Rochelle rubbed her lips together and sighed.

_Damn you, Nick._

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I just had to update quickly. I seriously felt bad for the huge wait last time.

Sorry for any mistakes.

Now, the drama begins to unfold.

-DJ Dork


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